


Faith For Duty

by MimiDubois_1620



Category: The Tudors (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canonical Character Death, F/M, Oral Sex, Romance, Sex, extra marital affair
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-04
Updated: 2016-02-13
Packaged: 2018-04-30 01:37:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 44,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5145500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MimiDubois_1620/pseuds/MimiDubois_1620
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally published on Fan Fiction.net in 2011.  Princess Mary is a widow with three children.  What happens when Henry VIII sends his most trusted courtier to become their guardian?  Will there be fireworks.  Parallels The Viscount and the Pearl.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

FAITH FOR DUTY

Prologue  
2nd July Anno. Dom. 1537 

The Princess Mary, Duchess of Cambridge peered through the lead casement windows of her lying-in chamber in Greenwich Palace, watching the rain trickle down the windows. Outside, crowds of common folk and minor gentry gathered outside the gates, their caps on their heads attempting to stay dry, cheering any movement they saw from the palace. Among the sea of soggy bouquets of flowers, handmade St. George's Cross flags and religious statues, Mary could make out the comings and goings of several ambassadors and their retinues eager to obtain the king's permission to see his first grandchild.  
Very soon all eyes would be on the royal baby sleeping peacefully in his royal cradle oblivious to the fact that he was the cause of so much joy and rejoicing. The succession, if the king willed it, was secure for another generation.  
Wrapped in swaddling clothes, the possible future king of England, Ireland and France had already been assigned his own nurse and chaplain. He was only a day old, but the baby's life was mapped out, his destiny shaped by a thousand years of royal history.  
Outside, the mood was one of anticipation and growing excitement. The king, jubilant and immaculate in a purple brocaded doublet, had come from Whitehall with several courtiers, via royal barge to visit that morning. They had not always seen eye to eye over the last several years but over the last year, since her restoration to favor and marriage, Mary was once again in her father's good graces. Today she could do no wrong in the eyes of her mercurial father. She was his "Priceless Pearl of Christendom" once more. She had produced a healthy male heir to the House of Tudor, and in keeping with tradition the news was being proclaimed across the country announcing the happy event. Church Bells were ringing all over the country, from one end to the other; proclamations were being read in every city and town square. The only time Henry anticipated more joyful celebrations would be in the autumn when his own queen, Jane, would deliver.  
The duchess and duke had yet to decide on a name, Franco, her part Moorish husband, a bastard son of Philip the Fair, preferred Philip but Mary preferred Henry-Philip to honor both of their fathers and would get her way. It had been a long labor, after the christening and her Churching forty days later she would be ready to get home to Hunsdon, her favorite country estate where more well wishes awaited the couple's arrival. 

 

Chapter I: The Four Courtiers  
Early Fall 1539 

"Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge is still overcome with the loss of the duke this past winter but that does not weigh on the fact that our two grandsons are in need of a guardian, a trusted courtier of our choosing who would bring them up as right and proper English princes of the Blood Royal." Henry announced to his Privy Councilors. His keen blue eyes scanned the chamber like a hawk, his mind's eye mentally discerning each man's attributes. Several he dismissed without giving them a thought. He focused on four men: Charles Brandon, the Duke of Suffolk, his life-long friend and Mary's favorite uncle was getting on in years; he also had a young wife and family to consider. "Your Grace of Suffolk..." He mused aloud.  
"Your Majesty?" Charles Brandon looked up from his place at the council table. Thomas Seymour, one of the late queen's brothers, shot him an envious look.  
"No...No...We know Your Grace has asked permission to visit his estates." The king was also aware of His Grace's sympathies to the Old Religion. "Sir Thomas..." Henry began but seeing his rakish brother-in-law's slow smile he stopped abruptly. He would not trust that charming rogue near his precious daughter. He sensed Tom's intentions were not honorable, he also did not wish to place too much power into the hands of the Seymours who were both uncles to his son and heir, Prince Edward at least not in Tom's reckless hands. "Nay... Nay... We must send you on another mission to France, the Italian States and the Levant. Aye, Master Culpepper..." His eyes alighted on the exceedingly attractive Gentleman of the Privy Chamber who was standing attendance at his right.  
"I will do whatever Your Majesty wishes" Culpepper stated, reverently. The guardianship of the Duchess of Cambridge's children was a great honor, their mother, The Princess Mary, a beauty.  
The King looked at the young body servant. He was a distant relation of the Howard family. He knew of the Tudor attraction to members of that clan. Nan Boleyn, the witch, had been a member as had his niece, Margaret Douglas' ill-fated lover, Thomas. The affair had landed his sister's daughter and the young man in the Tower of London for their presumption, where young Howard had later died. He was fond of Culpepper, however. But not now... "Ah lad, we wish that ye stay with us for now." He smiled indulgently at Culpepper. Then turned his attention to the back to the gentlemen at the table and one gentleman in particular. My Lord Hertford. Serious, incredibly clever, and capable, though a bit cold, Edward Seymour, older brother of Thomas. Henry watched the earl twirl his quill pen between his long, elegant fingers. "My Lord Hertford." His voice was commanding and direct.  
"Your Majesty?" Edward Seymour asked, waiting for what was to come.  
"How quickly can you be ready to leave for Hertfordshire?" The king asked.  
"As quickly as Your Majesty requires of me." Edward answered. So he was the king's choice? He did not relish the idea of being away from court but as a loyal servant of the king it was his duty to do whatever the king commanded.  
"At first light on the morrow, my lord. We wish you to travel to Hunsdon to see how our beloved daughter, the Dowager Duchess and our grandchildren fare. If you ride hard you should be there within three days, four at the latest."  
"Yes, Majesty." Edward replied.  
"You have our leave to prepare for your journey and to say farewell to your lady wife." Henry stated dismissing the earl.  
Edward rose to take his leave.  
"Give our warmest regards to Her Grace and tell her, we praise Almighty God that she and our heirs continue to enjoy the best of health by his Infinite Grace. Be prepared to deliver some gifts of our choosing, my lord. You may go and Godspeed."  
Edward Seymour was truly dismissed. He would take his time preparing for his journey knowing his whore of a wife was otherwise occupied. She had placed the horns of the cuckold upon his head once again. This time with the Vicar of Hell himself, Sir Francis Bryan. The trip to Hertfordshire may prove a pleasant diversion. He would be seeing her again. At least it would take him away from the gossip of the court. God was smiling upon him once again- no matter what the gossip was, he was still the elder uncle to the Heir to the Throne and one of the most powerful men at court. The king also trusted him above all other men on the Privy Council save Secretary Cromwell. To pay a call on the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge and report on the health and well-being of the king's other heirs, Henry-Philip, Philip and Catherine was quite an honor and one the earl did not view lightly. Maybe a guardianship was in the offing? It could prove to keep him away from his lady wife for several weeks. A smile crossed his classically handsome face. The Dowager Duchess was a very beautiful young widow.


	2. A Meeting and An Earl's Musings

Faith for Duty 

Edward and his retinue rode hard, changing their horses several times to arrive at Hunsdon House at the end of the week. They arrived one evening three hours after supper.   
"Your Grace, My Lord, the Earl of Hertford is outside. He begs Your Grace's leave to be allowed entry. He is on His Majesty's business, which, I am told, involves Your Grace, His Grace the Duke, the earl and the little countess. He brings gifts." Mary's majordomo announced.   
"By all means, let my lord enter. He has ridden long and hard. Prepare a bath for him. Ali, be certain that my lord receives a massage to ease any tensions from his long journey. I will see to the preparations of the Blue Chamber myself. Be certain that his retinue washes the dust from their travels, and are given comfortable lodgings and a light meal before they retire for the evening. " Mary instructed members of her staff.   
"My Lord, Madame?" One of her staff asked.   
"He will have a light supper after his bath and massage. Let us now prepare to greet My Lord." Mary said, rising and smoothing out her dark blue damask gown. She made her way to the entrance hall followed by her Moorish servants, Ali and Mustapha. When they entered they found it was already a bustle of activity. Gentlemen were removing hats, cloaks and gloves and handing them to awaiting footmen.   
"Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge." The chamberlain intoned. Edward Seymour turned to admire his hostess as she approached. She was lovely, he thought, feeling a not so gentle tug on his heart. He long curling red-gold hair was caught into a golden caul studded with pearls, a small crescent shaped cap poised over her head from left to right made of black velvet edged with dark blue lace and small onyx and more pearls. Her low, square cut dark blue damask gown showed the swells of her firm young breasts and small waist still trim after three children. The hips underneath her bell shaped skirt showed that they would probably be nicely rounded. The gaze that met his was warm and direct, the sapphire blue eyes set under winged brows darker that her glorious hair and rimmed with long lashes that were even darker that her brows. "Good Evening, My Lord Hertford. Welcome to Hunsdon."   
"Thank you, Your Grace." Edward replied, sketching her a neat bow. Grasping her right hand, he planted a kiss upon it. His lips scorching her skin, looking up into her face, his normally cold blue eyes were smoldering.   
Mary felt the heat steal into her cheeks. Fortunately the only person to observe her discomfort was the incredibly attractive earl who still held her hand in his.   
"I know that you and your retinue have ridden long and hard. It is getting late. If you would follow Ali and Mustapha, my lord, they will help you wash the dust from your travels and enjoy a light repast. The Blue Chamber will be at your lordship's disposal. If your retinue would but follow Mr. Rhys he will see to their comfort."   
"Your Grace is most gracious. I bring greetings and felicitations from his Most Illustrious Majesty the King, Your Lord Father to Your Grace, His Grace the Duke of Cambridge, My Lord Philip's Grace and My Lady Catherine's Grace; along with tokens of His Majesty's continued great affection and regard for Your Grace and His Majesty's grandchildren." Edward announced, finally releasing her hand, his thumb absently caressing her palm as his hand slipped away from hers. The light caress sending shimmers of heat up her arm once more. What was the matter with her? How could this be? Was she attracted to Edward Seymour? Was he attracted to her? He certainly was not being his cold, serious self. Maybe the long days of travel had addled his senses?   
"Thank you, My Lord Hertford. I most heartily accept His Majesty's greetings and his generous tribute to myself and my family. However, seeing as my children are in their beds we will have to wait until the morrow to view His Majesty's generosity. I know His Majesty would understand. Now that we have dispensed with the formalities, I insist your lordship follow Ali and Mustapha , your lordship must be exhausted."   
"Your Grace is too kind." Edward replied, as he bent to kiss her hand once, again. "If I do not see you, Madame, may God grant you a Good Night."   
"And you, My Lord Earl." There they were again, the sparks, when he touched her, his long, elegant fingers caressing her palm. "Good night, my lord." She added, disengaging her hand from his.   
"Madame." He intoned with an incline of his head, going to follow the two tall strapping Moors.   
They lead him up some steps and down a long corridor not far from the bedchambers. Stopping at a pair of doors, they opened them and led Edward inside. Several candelabrums burned fragrant beeswax candles, casting a warm glow in the room which had a stone floor covered with oriental carpets. The walls were paneled. In the center of the room close to the fire was a large marble tub with two chairs, upholstered in rich blue brocade and a long bench. Near the tub were several ewers of water that servants were pouring into the tub.   
"If Your Lordship would please sit on the bench, Ali will remove your boots."   
Edward did as he was bid, his eyes taking in the room. He allowed the two Moors to help him undress as more servants came bustling in with plush Turkish towels, bottles of various fragrant oils in a basket, a pair of slippers and a brocaded robe.   
"With Her Grace's compliments." Mustapha said helping Edward step into the marble tub, watching the earl sit down and let the hot water ease some of his sore muscles, Ali went over the basket of oils, choosing several, he poured different amounts of the oils into the hot water creating a sensual masculine scent that permeated the room.   
"Ah, milord, this scent is perfect for you. If you would but lay back and relax we would see to your lordship's needs."   
"Thank you." Edward replied, leaning back into the tub, closing his eyes. He felt one of the men wet his hair then more pleasant odors and the feel of fingers massaging his scalp as his hair was washed and then rinsed until all of the soap was removed. Then a small drop of sandalwood oil was massaged into his hair to give it sheen and fragrance. Edward then felt a cloth with the same fragrance gliding over his shoulders and arms while the two Moors washed his person. Cloths ran over his chest and under his arms down his taut, flat stomach as the two men washed him.   
Ali and Mustapha were impressed by the English lord's marvelous physique. He was taller than most men, slender, well proportioned, athletically built. His shoulders were broad, tapering to a flat stomach. His member, though flaccid under the water looked as though it would become a formidable lance once aroused able to give pleasure to a lonely young widow. His legs were long and well-shaped as well. In an era that valued the turn of a man's calf, Edward Seymour was possessed of two very well-turned ones. Yes! He was a fine specimen of a man and would give great comfort to their lady, Ali thought, She needed a dashing, virile man in her bed especially since the death of her beloved husband. Six months may be too soon but the protection she would receive from the earl would keep ambitious courtiers at bay for a time, he was also rumored to be incredibly discreet, so their liaison would be kept secret, no one's reputation would be compromised. There would be no bastards, either, they would be certain of that. There was a potion that prevented conception that they would give their mistress and if the earl decided not to act on his amorous inclinations toward the lady they most certainly would help those inclinations along.   
"Time to rinse, my lord." Mustapha declared. Pouring clean water over Edward's skin.   
"Did His Grace the Late Duke build this room? It is fascinating."   
"If you would stand please, milord, and step out of the tub onto the mat there while we dry you off."   
Edward did as he was bid. He felt relaxed and cleaner than he had in ages. He smelt quite nice as well, no longer like horses, dust and sweat. "Thank you." He said, as the white fluffy towels dried the moisture from his body. When he was dry, one was place about his waist and tucked in. "What is this?" He asked.   
"A covering. You will see soon enough. If you would please follow me, my lord." Ali instructed, leading Edward to another room also bathed in candlelight. Within it was a small table with a pallet upon it draped in white linen. "If your lordship would be kind enough to lie upon the table; it is time for your massage. "   
"Massage?"   
"Yes. Her Grace gave instructions to be certain all the aches and pains of your lordship' s travel were dispensed with."   
"Her Grace is a most gracious lady" Edward stated stretching his length upon the pallet face down.   
"Relax, my lord, " Ali instructed, reaching for a vial of fragrant oil. He undid the stopper, pouring some of it into one of his palms, adding a few drops of the liquid opium. Rubbing his hands together, he bent over the table, massaging the earl's shoulders, down his back, creating the most languid sensations as the oil was absorbed into Edward's skin.   
Edward sighed contentedly, feeling the collected tension leave his limbs. He could certainly get used to this. Behind his closed eyelids, vivid visions started to form in his exhausted brain. A woman, someone terribly familiar, was caressing his lower back, down toward his taut buttocks, her delicate finger kneading his flesh, clad in only a thin, transparent white silk gown, her long red-gold hair falling in sensuous cascading waves down her back, moving her hands lower and lower still with each caress."I would rather be clutching your buttocks while you thrust into me, Edward..." Her voice was a low, hot and thick whisper in one of his ears. "Isn't that what you want? To be my lover?" Her voice asked as the talented fingers kneaded and caressed his buttocks and flanks.   
"Lord Jesus! Yes!" He whispered, barely audible.   
Ali and Mustapha exchanged knowing smiles over the handsome earl's head. The opium was working. He was caught in the midst of a sensuous fantasy about the duchess, his mind bringing his most secret thoughts to the fore.  
"Turn over, milord." Ali's voice brought him out of his fantasy, with their help he rolled over onto his back. Ali reapplied oil and a few more drops of opium to his hands, beginning to massage Edwards's shoulders and pectoral muscles.   
"You are relaxing, my lord?" Ali asked, his fingers working.   
"Yes. Thank you. What is the oil? It smells wonderful."   
"A special blend imported from Algiers, my lord earl." Ali replied. "Made to relax the muscles of weary travelers."   
"What else? Induce dreams?" Edward asked, he did not like the place where his mind had wandered when the Moor had been massaging his back just now. It disturbed him.   
"Sir?"   
"While you were massaging my back I was experiencing the most vivid vision..."   
"Possibly due to the weariness of travel? Your lordship has been traveling long and hard for the past several days." Ali reasoned in his heavily accented English.   
"Aye." Edward answered, his eyes becoming heavy as the drug began to work. His eyes closed. There she was, the woman in the previous vision, in the room, this time in a brocaded robe, her long hair loose about her shoulders. Seeing her approach the table, he came up on his elbows supporting is upper body off the table. "Your Grace" He said recognizing his hostess, watching her come closer, her hand on the tie of her robe. Giving a gentle tug the tie gave way, the robe opened, revealing alabaster skin.   
"Is this what you want, Edward?" She asked, getting even closer. "Because it can be yours, I can be yours, if you but ask. Tell me, Edward. Tell me you want me. You do, don't you, my lord? You are having the most lascivious thoughts about your king's oldest child. I can see the desire burning in your eyes." She reached him, shrugging out of the robe. It fell in a heap at her feet.   
He gasped viewing her naked body. She was perfection. "Make me yours, Edward." She said, her breath hot against his mouth. "Please... You know you want me. Take me, Edward." She moved on top of him, he felt her heat, saw her lovely form above him. Her face so close he could see the faint freckle on the bridge of her nose, her erect nipples grazing his chest. "Now..." She encased his length into her heat.   
His eyes flew open. God! What was that?! What had just happened?! It was so real. He smelt her exotic perfume. He blinked several times. He was aroused, erect,and hard as a rock. "Is my chamber ready? I am famished and exhausted. I wish to seek my bed." He almost barked at the Moorish servants, attempting to grasp absolute control of his own part of the world once again. That last vision had left him shaken. It was all too real.   
"Yes, my lord. If we might help your lordship into his robe and slippers and then escort you to your chamber."   
"Thank you." Edward knew his state of arousal was quite visible beneath the towel he wore about his loins, low on his hips.   
"Exhaustion leads to amorous thoughts of a particular young noblewoman." Mustapha said in Arabic to Ali.   
"He is in his prime, handsome, a warrior and rumored to be unhappily married. He will give our lady much pleasure." Ali retorted in the same language. "Our lady needs a virile man in her bed and to protect her. He is perfect."   
"What are you speaking about?" It was Edward.   
"Only musings regarding what cook has prepared for your supper, my lord. She is quite adept in the kitchen." Ali replied, helping Edward into his robe after removing his towel. They helped him slip on his footwear, then escorted him to his chamber.   
"I wish to eat and then it is to bed." Edward instructed. These two Moorish servants where making him feel that much more uneasy with each passing moment. If His Majesty ever rewarded him with the guardianship of Her Grace's children, he would see to it that those two men were sent packing back to Spain, Algiers or wherever they had come from as soon as possible.   
"Yes, my lord. A nightshirt is warming by the fire if you are so inclined to wear one."   
Before he had a chance to answer several servants came bustling in with his meal all arrayed on gold and silver trays. There was a trout with capers and valuable Spanish lemons. Roast capon, slices of rare roast beef swimming in its own juices, lettuces, steamed asparagus, carrots braised with beer and then flavored with dill. There was fresh baked bread with butter and marmalade made from oranges grown in the Hunsdon greenhouse. The trees had come with Don Franco from Spain when he and the duchess had married. There was an apple tart flavored with sugar and rare spices from the New World and the Far East brought back in merchant ships that Mary had inherited from her late husband. The wine flowed freely from several decanters on the silver tray on a sideboard. Ali was certain Edward's glass remained full and lightly laced with sedatives that would help the earl sleep though it was probable that he was still feeling the effects of the opium.   
"Her Grace has retired for the evening. Before she did, she wished me to convey that she hopes that your lordship has been well settled and that the accommodations and meal are to your satisfaction. "   
"Please convey my thanks to Her Grace. Everything is perfect. I appreciate her concerns for my welfare. Once again, I bid her a good night with the most pleasant dreams." Edward replied, silently praying that his dreams would be pleasant as the ones Her Grace would have. Could she be troubled by lustful, erotic thoughts like he was? Why now? He had never had them before. Granted he did fancy her, he had since she had been restored to favor three years ago and he had gotten to know her and the Late Duke when they had visited the court, but he kept those most private feelings to himself. What were these thoughts a reaction to? His wife, Anne's most recent blatant infidelity? A feeling, that, he, too, was entitled to some pleasure? He wasn't Thomas, his rakish and, as yet, unmarried younger brother. He was more prudent than that. Or was he? He asked himself, swirling the contents of his goblet about before taking a long drink, setting the goblet on the table beside him. Was he willing to take what he truly wanted in his heart of hearts?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Mary's Late husband, Don Franco of Spain's inspiration is Daniel Sunjata from Rescue Me and The Devil Wears Prada fame. When Don Franco married Mary he brought a lot of the exotic into her sheltered world and helped her grow into a sensual young woman as we shall see.   
> I have to admit to being a long time reader of not only Tudor history but historical fiction and romance novels. I cut my teeth on Bertrice Small, Virginia Henley, Susan Johnson, Jean Plaidy and Roberta Gellis among others. This is partially a homage to those women.


	3. Chapter III

FAITH FOR DUTY   
CHAPTER III: A Duchess, An Earl and a kiss

I could lose my heart tonight   
If you don't turn and walk away   
'Cause the way I feel I might   
Lose control and let you stay   
'Cause I could take you in my arms   
And never let go 

I could fall in love with you  
I could fall in love with you 

I can only wonder how   
Touching you would make me feel  
But if I take that chance right now  
Tomorrow will you want me still   
So I should keep this to myself   
And never let you know 

I could fall in love with you   
I could fall in love with you 

And I know it's not right   
And I guess I should try to do what I should do  
But I could fall in love, fall in love with you  
\- "I Could Fall In Love With You" Sung by Late Latina Singing Sensation Selena 

 

In another part of the manor, unbeknownst to Edward, Mary was laying in bed torn with whether or not she should pay a call on her important guest. Should she see for herself how he had settled in for the evening? It was late and the whole house was abed, dare she venture to his chamber? He was probably asleep. She has sent word with her servants but it would be politic for her to check herself. The exhibition of her concern could only reflect favorably on herself and her offspring- word would get back to the king, her father, which could only enhance her reputation in his eyes.   
Tossing the covers off, she got out of bed. Picking up the robe at the foot, she put it on, belting it. Grabbing the candleholder on the bedside table she made her way to her chamber door. Opening it she slipped out into the hallway which was faintly lit with torches. She walked down the corridors to the Blue Chamber, her heart hammering in her chest. He was a proper gentleman, he would not misconstrue the purpose of her late nocturnal visit. As she moved down the corridors, the sconces on the walls, the shadows from the moonlight coming through the large mullioned windows lit her path to her destination. She paused outside the door her hand raised to knock. Lord Jesu! I pray that this act of kindness reflexes favorably upon my three babies. She rapped upon the door giving a silent prayer that he was asleep and therefore would not open it. The Lord did not see fit to answer her prayer. The door opened to reveal his lordship.   
"Your Grace, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He asked in way of greeting. He was obviously naked underneath the brocaded robe he wore, it emphasized his tall athletic body. She could see a large expanse of well-formed chest where the robe's edges strove to meet. She tried not to stare.   
"I thought it my duty, my lord, to see that your lordship was properly settled and that you were made most comfortable here at Hunsdon, I apologize for the late hour of my visit, sir."   
"There is no need to apologize, Madame. Would Your Grace care to come inside for some refreshment?"   
"At this late hour? Do you deem that wise, My Lord?"   
"Your Grace's reputation and Good Name will always be upheld and protected by me as a loyal subject of His Majesty the King. It is my duty. Nothing untoward or improper will tarnish Your Grace's reputation. Upon my honor, I will see to it."   
"Is your lordship putting himself forward as my champion?"   
"Due to the love and esteem with which you held the late Queen's Grace, my sister, Jane, yes, I am."   
"Your lady wife..."   
"Places the horns of a cuckold upon my head with her liaison with Sir Francis Bryan."   
"My lord, I am so sorry!" Mary exclaimed finding herself moving into the room. "If it is any consolation, Sir Francis does have a reputation as a debaucher of women. He will soon tire of your lady and discard her." She placed a comforting hand on his forearm, squeezing it reassuringly. Poor Man! He had the most horrible luck with unfaithful spouses, first Catherine Fillol and now Anne Stanhope.   
Starting at the contact, he gasped, looking down into her face, the heat of passion moving up his arm. "Don't." He warned, his voice husky.   
"Have I done something to offend you?" She asked, concerned.   
"No, Madame. I am not behaving as a champion."   
"My Lord? Everyone is entitled to a slip now and again. We are human after all only made in the image of God."   
"Thank you, Madame. I am afraid it was a wee bit more than a slip."   
"Oh!" Mary wasn't as ignorant of the ways between men and women as she had once been, having been married to Don Franco for nigh on three years. She had learnt a lot about passion. She was just too well-bred to acknowledge out loud that she knew that Edward Seymour may desire her as a man did a woman. She could read it in his face. "Seeing as you are settled, my lord, and the lateness of the hour, I bid you, Good Night." Leaning up, she went to plant a courtly kiss upon his cheek.   
At the last moment, Edward turned his head. Their lips met, his mouth searing hers, his moustache tickling her upper lip. Grasping her waist and pulling her close against him with one hand, the other slammed the chamber door shut. Pushing her up against the now closed door, he continued his passionate assault on her lips, kissing her feverently while she clung to him.   
"Good Night, Your Grace." He whispered against her mouth, the heat fanning against her face. She tasted the fine Spanish wine he had been drinking, saw the fire in his blue eyes. They sparkled like twin sapphires in the candlelight, the pupils dilated. She could also feel his heart pounding, hammering a wild tattoo in his chest.   
"Sleep well, my lord." She whispered back, her chest rising and falling as she, too, tried to regain her composure. Their kissing had totally unsettled her as much as it had Edward.   
"As well can be expected, Your Grace." He replied with a rakish smile.   
"Is there anything I can do to ensure you pass a pleasant night, my lord?"   
"I would not be a gentleman or Your Grace's champion if I professed what would ensure my restful sleep this evening. Seek you bed, Your Grace, before we find ourselves in another embrace and are unable to cease. I will escort you to your chamber." Opening the door, he allowed her to precede him out into the hallway.   
"Is this wise, my lord? Your Lordship escorting me to my bedchamber?"   
"I would not be the gentleman I claim to be if I did not, Your Grace. Come," taking one of her hands, looking up and down the corridor to be certain that no watchmen were about he helped her along.   
The sound of footsteps stopped him in his tracks pulling Mary against a wall beside him.   
"The watchman..." Mary whispered.   
"Aye." He turned back to look at her in the moonlight. She was staring at him, her lips pursed a bit as if she were attempting to repress a smile.   
"Are we reduced to thieves in the night?" She asked, the ridiculousness of the situation hitting home to her. Here she was, the First Lady in the Land, at the moment, and one of the most powerful and important noblemen in the land sneaking about in the middle of the night like two errant children.   
She started to giggle. She could not help herself, quickly covering her mouth with her free hand to quiet herself. Catching Edward's glance, he grinned down at her, shaking his head.   
"Madame, do stop, or I will have to make you." He went back to watching the hallway.   
In response Mary snurked, the situation was so silly.   
"Shhhh!" Turning about he placed a warning finger against his mouth. "Do not try me, Madame. I will make you stop." His voice was firm and completely serious this time all mirth gone or so she thought. She felt as though she was back in the schoolroom and was being reprimanded by one of her tutors, when she looked at him, however, his stern tone of voice did not match his eyes which were glittering with amusement in the torchlight.   
"I would like to see your lordship attempt it." She challenged. "Can you truly make me stop?" The corners of her mouth lifting in a smile. Not being able to help herself, she chuckled.   
"Your Grace leaves me no choice." Pulling her into another embrace, pressing her roughly against the paneled wall of the hallway, his lips sought hers once again, capturing them in a fiery kiss.   
This time, her arms snaked up his chest to wrap about his neck, while she kissed him back.   
Edward's head was spinning. How could he feel so much passion from just pressing his mouth against hers? It was not this way when he kissed Anne. Far from it. Kissing Mary Tudor was like awakening from a dream, one which he had long lay in slumber. He felt more vibrant and alive with Mary. His baser nature aroused. He wished to carry her to bed and make love to her despite the probable consequences.   
The kissing ended far too soon. They stood staring at one another both of them not knowing what to say to the other, highly aroused and incredibly confused.   
Mary was the first one to react, disengaging herself from Edward's arms, rushing the last few feet down the hall to her chamber. Opening the door, she stepped inside, slamming it shut. Then, and only then, did she give into violent trembling and tears. God Help her! She wanted Edward Seymour!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: ACK! I was not pleased with the portrayal of Anne Stanhope in the series, THE TUDORS. Historically, she and Mary were friends for quite some time. Mary was supposedly one of the only women who could abide Anne, who apparently, was quite unpopular at court. In Hilda Lewis' Historical Fictional Biography of Mary, I AM MARY TUDOR, she calls the Countess of Hertford 'My Good Gossip, Nan'. As many of you know, Hirst based his Anne Stanhope in the series on Edward's first wife, Catherine Fillol, who reportedly had an affair with Edward's father placing the legitimacy of her two children in question. For plot purposes of this story I have also taken the view that Anne was/is an unfaithful spouse which historically she wasn't. Oddly enough, Mary was friends with both the Earl and Countess of Hertford despite their religious differences.


	4. Chapter IV

Faith For Duty: Chapter IV  
A Princess' Confession, Suitors for a Duchess and Presents from the King 

Mary awoke after a fitful sleep the previous evening, bathed, dressed and then sought out one of her chaplains to make her confession before Mass that morning.   
"Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been a day since my last confession." Mary told the priest sitting on the other side of the Confessional screen, worrying her rosary between her fingers.   
Father Dominic began to recite the commencement prayer of the sacrament in Latin, "O most loving Trinity, and most worthy of all love, Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, my God, I adore Thee. Behold this wretched creature at Thy feet, who desires to make her peace with Thee by means of a good Confession. But since, O my God, without Thy help she can do nothing but evil, I beseech of Thee, by the bowels of Thy compassion, to grant her light, that she may recollect all her sins; make her to perceive the hideousness and the enormity of sin, so that she may abhor and detest it with all her heart.  
Mary replied with the Misere, a recitation of Psalm 51, also in Latin.   
Father Dominic then continued, " Have mercy on us Lord, have mercy on us; for being devoid of all defense, we sinners offer to Thee, as Master, this supplication: Have mercy on us.  
"Behold, my child, Christ stands here invisibly receiving your confession. Do not be ashamed and do not fear, and do not withhold anything from me; but without doubt tell all you have done and receive forgiveness from the Lord Jesus Christ. Lo, His holy image is before us, and I am only a witness, bearing testimony before Him of all things which you say to me. But if you conceal anything from me, you shall have the greater sin. Take heed, therefore, lest having come to the physician, you depart unhealed."  
"Yes, Father Dominic. I confess to you, and to Almighty God that I have sinned most grievously against Him by breaking His Seventh Commandment."   
"You have committed adultery, my daughter? How can this be?"   
"I allowed a man to kiss me, not once, but twice." Mary confessed.   
"How is that a sin? Is this man free to offer you marriage?" Father Dominic asked, knowing the answer but wanting to hear it from Mary's own lips.   
"No, Father, he is married to another. I find myself attracted to this man and have tried to pray my attraction to him away but to no avail. I cannot possibly avoid him because he is a distinguished guest in my home. What am I to do?" She asked.   
"Has he offered you anything, my daughter?"   
"He has offered himself as my champion because of the love and respect with which I held his late sister, the Queen Jane's Grace."   
"So he holds Your Grace in the highest esteem? Are you in love with him? Is he in love with you?" Father Dominic pressed.   
"I, oh, I don't know! I am so confused. He has qualities that I could fall in love with." Mary replied.   
"Do you wish him to do more intimate things to your person besides kiss you?" Father Dominic asked, distressed at what he was hearing. The Earl of Hertford was a known reformer and not gently disposed to Papists and priests. However, if he had offered himself as the champion to the Catholic Duchess mayhap he was beginning to have a change of heart. Was the earl falling in love with his dear lady? "Remember my child to be honest and open your heart. It is only me and Almighty God listening. The seal of the Confessional is a sacred and binding one."   
"If he were free to do so and we found ourselves in such a relationship sanctified by Holy Mother Church." She replied, honestly, knowing that whatever she said to him would remain in her own chapel. Father Dominic was a loyal servant of the church not a politician like so many other religious. Nor was he a spy.   
"Even if it were not sanctified by Holy Mother Church?" Father Dominic pressed. He knew that Mary wasn't telling him how she was truly feeling. Something about this man had awakened many feelings in her dormant since Don Franco had died earlier that year, one of them being a bit of that Tudor Recklessness. He could sense it and feel it. The trait was share by her cousin, Margaret Douglas, Margaret's mother, The Queen of Scots and her other aunt and namesake, Mary, The French Queen who had married the Duke of Suffolk.   
"I don't know." Mary answered, honestly, biting her lip. "Father Dominic what am I to do?"   
"I do not have an immediate answer, my child. I suggest we both pray on the matter and with God's Good Grace He will show us a solution. I do absolve you of your sin and do not know of any penance to give you seeing as how conflicted you are about the situation. That is penance enough, my daughter. Go now, in Peace." Father Dominic finished the Confession not waiting for Mary to recite the Penitential Prayer. Father Dominic sighed as he watched the duchess go take her seat in the front pew to pray before Mass. Hopefully, a solution to this problem could be found soon. 

Edward slid into the pew beside her in the manor's chapel just as the last chorus of the Entrance Hymn was being sung. Glancing out of the corner of one of her eyes she noticed a speck of soap on his chin and a place where one of his gentlemen had nicked him when shaving. 

Edward glanced down at her, catching her eye. He winked at her before giving his attention over to the priest and the service. Mary raised her chin, trying to ignore him, attempting to focus completely on God and not this blue-eyed devil standing beside her. Had he been sent here to Hunsdon to tempt her and test her faith and resolve?

They broke their fast in the Great Hall. There were platters of ham, eggs scrambled with tarragon and brie cheese and flavored lightly with nutmeg, stewed pears, a round of sharp English cheddar cheese, strawberries with cream, fresh loaves of manchet bread with butter, more of the marmalade that Edward had tasted the evening before, raspberry preserves. As a treat there was left over apple tartlet. There was apple cider, mead and watered wine to drink.   
Mary helped herself to some thin slices of the smoked ham, eggs, strawberries and cream, and a small slice of the apple tartlet. She took some cider to drink.   
Edward proved to have quite the appetite. He crowded his plate with a bit of everything.   
"Your Grace, the food is delicious. If I may, I must have the recipe for the apple tartlet. The marmalade is delicious, as well."   
"Thank you. We grow the oranges in the green house. I could show you after we eat if Your Lordship is so inclined."   
"As part of the tour of the estate? There are also gifts from His Majesty that need to be presented."   
"The gifts are the priority. I saw the three spaniel puppies for the children this morning. It was very kind of you to present them. They were all delighted. Though, I daresay, at six months, Kate did not know what to do."   
"The clapping and the gurgling was enough to indicate her pleasure." Edward said, smiling. "Your Grace has been blessed with three lovely children."   
"Thank you, My Lord. His Majesty is pleased?"   
"Absolutely, His Majesty takes great pleasure in his grand children. They are the future of England after the Prince of Wales. Methinks it would please His Majesty that Henry-Philip be placed in the household of his uncle so the two lads can be raised with one another."   
"Along with the Suffolk boys? I wish my sons to be raised as Humanists but in the True Faith."   
Edward frowned. "Certainly a compromise can be reached, Madame." He said, diplomatically.   
"At the discretion of whomever His Majesty chooses to wed me to or whomever he chooses as my children's guardian. I am their mother and will have my say even though they belong to the State." Her voice was firm. "Is there any news regarding another marriage?"   
"Philip of Bavaria's name has been bandied about. His is a cousin of Anna of Cleves. The Duke of Norfolk has put forth the suggestion of another Imperial Alliance or one with one of his many male relations, if truth be told. He is sorry that the Earl of Surrey did not marry Your Grace when he had the opportunity seven years ago. His Grace of Norfolk would then be the grandfather of Your Grace's children as well as His Majesty."   
"Who do the Archbishop of Canterbury and Mr. Cromwell favor? Or would they prefer that I remain a widow?"   
"Nay, Madame. Secretary Cromwell would see Your Grace matched with the German Prince or a Scot. There has also been talk of matching Your Grace with an English nobleman."   
"That would certainly cause jealousy between members of the Privy Council and within the court. Unless His Majesty chooses a man that is well-liked by all."   
"By the Law of the Land, the Privy Council would have to vote on Your Grace's marriage even though His Majesty would make the final decision. That said, my younger brother, Thomas, is as yet unmarried..." Edward posed, bursting out laughing when Mary wrinkled her nose with distaste.   
"With all due respect, My Lord Hertford, Sir Thomas and I do no suit one another. It would be an unhappy match, only entered into at His Majesty's insistence. Although, I do recognize Sir Thomas' finer qualities, he is not the man for me."   
"So Your Grace is not enamored of my brother?" This was rich! Wait until Edward returned to court and told Thomas, who fancied himself as one of the most popular men at the court especially with women, that the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge did not fancy him. Not in the least, from the looks of it. Why was he so relieved? Because you want her for yourself, a voice in his head remarked. Admit it!   
"Oh, My Lord, pardon me for being so indiscreet. My intention was not to insult but to convey and honest opinion. It does not reflect on the high esteem with which I hold Your Lordship's family."   
"No offence was taken. On the contrary, I admire Your Grace's candor." Edward replied, giving her a reassuring smile. "It is quite refreshing."   
"Thank you, My Lord." They had just about finished their breakfast. "Can Your Lordship give any inclination as to what His Majesty has sent? I must admit that my curiosity is starting to overcome me!" Mary asked, changing the subject. She knew she must marry again but all this talk of potential suitors made her feel slightly uncomfortable. Especially since she was speaking to a man, whom had situations been different, would be on the top of Secretary Cromwell's list of potential husbands for her. She would rather move on to other things.   
"His Majesty has been most generous, that is all I will say on the matter at this moment, Your Grace."   
"Oh, Lord Edward! Please do give a small hint. Please?" She pleaded prettily. She flashed him a winning smile.   
The breakfast dishes were being cleared away. The grooms and footmen began to bring in several cloth bags. Edward motioned to one of the footmen who approached carrying a bag.   
"My Lord?" The footman bowed.   
"The bag, man!" Edward flicked a finger at the black silk brocaded item that the footman held. The footman opened the bag, spilling the contents upon the table between Mary and Edward.   
Mary gasped as a perfectly matched strand of pearls landed upon the table. Strung on silk cord each pearl was the size of a small robin's egg, the strand was a yard long. The clasp an emerald surround by diamonds.   
"With His Majesty's compliments." Edward announced smiling at the undisguised pleasure on Mary's face. "That is not all, Your Grace." He told her, nodding. Several footmen came forward with more brocaded bags presenting them to Mary. There was a pair of pearl earbobs, a brooch in the shape of a sea serpent wrought in gold with ruby eyes, a gold chain, a pair of diamond earbobs, a teardrop pearl set on a necklace of sapphires and diamonds with earrings to match. Lastly, there was a large table cut emerald ring and an oval cut sapphire ring surrounded by diamonds. Franco had left her gorgeous collection jewelry but these were incredible. The pearls alone were worth a king's ransom. Another footman step forward with a purse of gold coins.   
"His Majesty is most generous. Most incredibly generous. The gifts were worth the wait. Thank you, my lord. Please accept this as a token of my appreciation for conveying His Majesty's largesse to me." She said, handing him the table cut emerald ring. She knew that her father would expect her to give the earl a token of her appreciation. The messenger was always rewarded and the Tudors were generous.   
"Thank you, Your Grace. But I could not possibly..." The ring was beautiful, the stone large and of the highest quality. He knew it would be politic to accept, he must or he would insult his hostess, but there would be gossip. The ring was far too valuable. Some people would misconstrue the correct intent of the Dowager Duchess' gift. It was, however, worth half of what the pearls were worth at the very least. She hadn't offered those to him.   
"His Majesty would want Your Lordship to have the ring as another token of the high esteem in which he holds you, My Lord. Please accept it."   
"Thank you, Madame."   
"Have the children received their gifts."   
"Yes, Your Grace."   
"I would like to see them before we leave to view the estate."   
"Yes, Your Grace. As you wish, Madame."   
"Please deliver all of the gifts from His Majesty to my chamber." Mary said to some of her awaiting ladies, one of which, Edward noted was a blackamoor. They came forward to take the gifts from the footmen.


	5. Chapter V

After breakfast, Mary took Edward on a tour of the manor and the estate.   
"This is the greenhouse, " Mary said, preceding Edward through the primarily glass windowed structure. Wooden tables were arranged in neat rows all about the perimeter of the room. Other tables were set up in the middle portion of the room at equal intervals. On several of the tables were various varieties of exotic flowers from far off lands that Don Franco and his captains had brought back on their trips abroad. Other tables had different herbs and vegetables, some native and other new exotic varieties. Down toward the far end of the room were the different fruit trees that due to the English climate, could not be placed in the orchards. There were lemon, lime and orange trees.   
Mary took several minutes going down the rows pointing out various exotic flowers and vegetables. "This is jasmine." She indicated, pointing to the small incredibly fragrant flowers. "The delicate jasmine flower opens only at night and may be plucked in the morning when the tiny petals are tightly closed, then stored in a cool place until night. The petals begin to open in the evening, as the temperature lowers."   
"The fragrance permeates the greenhouse?" Edward asked.   
"Yes. It is quite lovely coming here early in the evening just when the flowers begin to open. The Damask Roses are there, the gilly flowers..."   
"Is it always this hot in here?" Edward asked, pulling at his collar. He should have changed into something a bit more casual like a shirt and jerkin. He was getting a bit over heated in his doublet.   
"I am afraid so. The building is built on the south side of the manor to get the most sun to help all of the plants grow and to keep those not used to the harsh English winter alive. Would your lordship like to see the orange trees?" She asked, looking over at him.   
He was about a foot away from her, looking at some purple pansies; the sun shining through the windows caught the planes and angles of his face in profile and the reddish lights in his brown hair. He lifted his head, his eyes locking with hers. "Yes, Madame. If Your Grace would kindly oblige me." The timbre of his voice sounded like a caress in the stillness of the room. He followed her down the row to the trees, noting how she moved with an easy grace, unable to keep his eyes from the gentle sway of her hips as she walked.   
"We have lemon, lime and orange trees." Mary explained. "Used for cooking and some medicinal purposes, the lemons have a sour taste as do the limes. The flavor of fish is enhanced with some of the lemon juice. Cook also makes some delicious desserts with both fruits. They do tend to taste better with a form of sweetener added. Your Lordship has tasted oranges?"   
"Yes, we had them for treats when I was a child and a young man especially during Yuletide. Are these any different?"   
"Why don't you try one, sir, and decide?" Mary replied with a question of her own, plucking one of the oranges from one of the trees. "Could I please borrow your dagger for a moment, Lord Edward?"   
"Certainly." Edward replied, handing her the dagger. She tried her best to avoid touching his hand when he proffered the hilt to her, but her fingers grasped it just when his were releasing it, the tips of her fingers brushing against his knuckles. She saw him swallow and lick his lower lip nervously, obviously affected as much as she was by this brief physical contact. She, herself, had felt tingling warmth rush up from her fingertips through her hand and up her arm as though she had been burnt. Why did touching him unsettle her so?   
"Thank you." She said, hoping that her voice was steady, beginning to use the blade to cut the orange into sections very carefully as she held it in one of her palms.   
"Your Grace, are you certain that you wish to do that? I apologize for being such an ungallant clod. Here. Let me. Use this." He offered her his handkerchief pressing it into her hand.   
"I will try my best not to destroy your handkerchief. Just about done." She told him making the last cut into the dimpled skin after she had placed it in the square piece of linen and lace he had so kindly offered. The distinctive fragrance of the fruit permeated the room; the sweet juice from the sections of the fruit began to trickle out. "Your dagger, Lord Edward." She presented it to him, so he could grasp it with the least physical contact. It was not to be. His finger tips gently brushed against her hand this time. Their eyes met at the contact, both of them reacting. Mary's lips parted as her cheeks flushed prettily.   
"I am glad that the dagger served Your Grace well." He said. She was so adorable when she was flustered, he thought, her cheeks a lovely shade of pink as she blushed. He wondered if other parts of her flushed as lovely when touched. He would enjoy finding out.   
"Yes it did. Thank you." Mary replied watching him rub the blade against the side of one of his boots to temporarily dry it before slipping it back into its sheath. He would give it to one of his grooms to clean later.   
"Would your lordship care to try a piece of orange?" She offered her hand that contained the orange. Edward took one of the pieces with a Thank you. He bit into the flesh of the fruit. "Mmmmm!" He exclaimed as the flavor hit his tongue. It was delicious.   
"Oh, my lord! Let me." Mary said, taking her own handkerchief, leaning up close to him, some of the juice was running down toward his chin. Edward took the piece of fruit out of his mouth, allowing her to press the fine cambric against his face. Their faces and bodies were so incredibly close to together. He could feel her warmth, smell that intoxicating combination of jasmine and roses she wore. He went to kiss her.   
Mary looked away and moved back before his lips to brush against hers, instead, Edward's lips gently brushed one of her temples. "We should go view the rest of the manor. Would you care to see the bathing pool?"   
"Bathing pool?"   
"For swimming. Franco built it, next to this greenhouse. See it there?" Mary pointed to another large building beside the one they were in.   
"Shall we finish the orange first?" Edward asked taking another section from her hand.   
She nodded.   
They finished the orange without too many mishaps until she leaned up to catch the juice that had trickled down to the edge of his chin. Edward seized the opportunity that had eluded him a few minutes before, his head dipped, his mouth pressing gently against hers as he kissed her. She kissed him back increasing the pressure ever so slightly. He tasted of oranges and cloves, which she knew he chewed to keep his breath sweet.   
"That was delicious." He remarked when their lips finally parted.   
She did not know if he was referring to the orange or their kiss. 

* * * * * * * * * * *  
"The water is kept warm from a hot spring nearby." Mary explained to Edward as they stood near the large bathing pool.   
"Fascinating. Your Grace swims?"   
"Yes. Franco taught me when we were first married. Sometimes I take exercise here when I wish a change from walking and riding. You do know how to swim, my lord, do you not?"   
"Yes. I learnt as a boy."   
"Instead of sharing a morning ride mayhap we should go swimming instead?" She posed.   
"Mayhap." Could he trust himself alone with her in such a setting? "Tell me more about Don Franco. We were well acquainted but he never said all that much about his background. "   
"His mother was a Moorish dancer that my Lord's father, Philip, saw dancing. He lusted after her and eventually consummated that lust. Franco was the product of their liaison. She died in childbirth. Franco was taken to be raised with his legitimate half-siblings. He proved incredibly intelligent so he was given the same education as the emperor and his kin. Franco also proved to be an adventurer. He always loved the sea and hearing about the tales and the spoils brought back from the New World and the East. So when he was only enough, he decided to view the world. On his travels to the East, he became concerned with the plight of conversos and Christian Arabs being the son of a converso, himself. He began rescuing them from their horrible circumstances when he had the ways and means to do so. Especially when his investments paid off and he was able to purchase his own ships and fund his own enterprise. The first two men he was able to rescue were Ali and Mustapha, they were French galley slaves, Christians from the Ottoman Empire. Sold by relatives for a few pieces of gold to serve their relatives habit of dissolute living. Lady Drusilla and Lady Lavinia were part of Franco's wedding gift to me. They were slaves in a harem. I care not to think of the horrors they endured before they came to live with us."   
"He sounds like quite an honorable man." Edward commented.   
"He was. But he had his faults. He was far from perfect. He could be over proud, parsimonious, and relentless in pursuit of his goals. We had a Marriage of State but I did grow to adore him. I was in love with him. I am so terribly sorry. I have gone on and give your lordship more information than you cared to know. Though I would wager that there are things that I have said except for the information regarding my servants that Your Lorship has not heard already from the gossip of the court."   
"I was well aware of the rumors regarding His Late Grace's loyalty and deep abiding affection for Your Grace. I dare not tell Your Grace all the manner of speculation as to Your Grace's foreign servants' origins by members of the court."   
"Please don't."   
"Will Your Grace be kind enough to indulge me by showing me more of this lovely place Your Grace calls home?" He was the consummate courtier.   
"I would be delighted, My Lord." 

* * * * * * *   
She took him about all the other rooms in the manor, stopping at various intervals to show him some of the treasures of the house until they arrived in the place that housed the greatest treasures of all; the library. They walked inside the large paneled room which was situated between her and Franco's studies. Every wall was covered, floor to ceiling, with shelves, upon which were many valuable books on all sorts of subjects in several different languages. There were places on the shelves for more books. Large comfortable upholstered chairs were set about the room with tables beside them to afford the reader nice cozy places to get lost for an afternoon. There was also a huge window seat that overlooked the garden covered with generously large pillows. She could not help but smile broadly seeing the look on Edward's face when he had entered the room. He looked as though St. Peter had come down from heaven and had given him the keys to Paradise.   
"The library is at Your Lordship's disposal for as long as your lordship is visiting with us. I would also be more than happy to send you volumes when you travel back to London. If your lordship finds anything of interest that is not in your possession."   
"Your Grace is too kind. I will be forever in Your Grace's debt and am very grateful. How did you ever manage to amass such a collection of books? Your Grace must have your agent visit every bookseller in all the major cities of the country."   
"All the major cities in England and abroad, especially in Europe. Franco purchased several volumes on a recent trip to the Italian states before he died. I believe that he was able to purchase another copy of Machiavelli's Il Principe. Has your lordship read it? He was also able to find the works of Petrarch."   
"Does Your Grace have something a bit more, erm, English? The Canterbury Tales or The Morte d'Arthur?"   
"Yes, of course. Would Your Lordship care to read them? I will be more than happy to find them for you. I know where they are kept."   
"If Your Grace is so inclined I was hoping that we could read one of them together during the duration of my visit. If we do not finish when I have to leave, mayhap we could continue the discussion via letters?" He asked.   
"That would be lovely. I would enjoy that. Which book shall we read?" Mary replied, walking toward the shelf in the library where both books were kept.   
"Would Your Grace care to choose? I will leave the decision to Madame's discretion." Edward replied.   
"Malory's Morte d'Arthur. It has been so long since I have read it."   
"Perfect choice, Your Grace. I have not read it in quite some time myself." They were both trying to be so polite to one another.   
"Now if I can find the book." She said, scanning the shelf, looking up to read the titles. "There it is." She had found it on an upper shelf. "I will need to use the ladder to retrieve it."   
Edward helped Mary move the ladder nearer to the shelf, holding it steady while she climbed up it to the top. Standing on tip-toes, she reached up to grab for the book almost losing her balance. Instinctively, he reached up to steady her, touching her hip, slipping it down over her bum as she regained her footing. Her buttocks fit perfectly in his palm for the brief moment it was nestled there until she had contracted her muscles, reacting to the very intimate contact. "Would Your Lordship be kind enough to help me down?" She asked reversing her steps, coming down the ladder, his hand poised near her waist to help steady her in the event that she might lose her footing once again. It was just an excuse for him to be nearer to her than protocol dictated.   
She landed on the ground, her back brushing against his front, the book in her hand. "Malory's Morte d'Arthur." She announced, attempting to break the intense sexual tension between them.   
* * * *   
The next few days fell into a pattern. They would wake early, usually go for a walk or ride on horseback, bathe, attend Mass, breakfast, ride out once more to attend to estate business, play with the children. Have their midday meal. The evenings were spent in the library after supper reading Malory together, playing chess, and enjoying music and singing usually until the wee hours. But for their religious differences they got on famously. Edward was finding it harder and harder to resist her. As the days past, both of them were finding hiding their growing unspoken passion very difficult to keep from Mary's staff, including her women and Edward's grooms. They found themselves stealing looks at one another in public as they became more and more emotionally intimate. Father Dominic looked on in increasing despair at the turn of events, trying to conceal his disapproval. The earl was representing His Majesty on His Majesty's Business, as he was told one morning when the priest had voiced his concerns to His Lordship. Father Dominic had left that meeting sorely shaken. Reminded, in no uncertain terms, as to who the ultimate authority in the land was.   
Mary decided to hold a fete to honor Edward's visit. Invitations were dispatched to the local gentry and preparations were made. It was set for the morrow. Little did they know that after that evening nothing would ever be the same between them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: So many notes on this chapter. Oranges were available from Spain in the 16th century and were sent over in the autumn.   
> Swimming had not reached the popularity that is has today. Not many people knew how including sailors. I would think that Edward probably would have learnt when he was a boy along with fishing, hunting, and all the traditional boy stuff. Knowing him, he was probably quite proficient at it. Franco had learnt as a boy as well and subsequently taught his wife. I would imagine she probably pressed the matter with him and he obliged. Seeing as he built the bathing pool at Hunsdon.   
> Regarding the Christian Arabs, there were Christians in what we would now consider the Middle East back in the 16th c. and even earlier. I don't know if any of my readers is familiar with the story from the Crusades of the slaughter of the Arab Christians that came out to greet the Crusaders? They thought they were Muslims and subsequently slaughtered them. Sad, sad tale. France and the Ottoman Empire had developed diplomatic relations, methinks, during the reign of Francis I of France. France did use galley slaves in their naval ships. The Scots Reformer, John Knox was one for a time, if my memory serves. The origins of Franco's mother were inspired from a scene in the Spanish movie, MAD LOVE, about the life of Queen Juana of Spain (Juana La Loca). In the scene, Philip sees a belly-dancer in a tavern and subsequently had a relationship with her. I would like to think that Franco could be the fruit of that relationship.   
> Max Brown is completely responsible for the scene in the greenhouse with the orange. I had been catching up with his performance in FOYLE'S WAR as the adorable Adam Wainwright as I was writing this chapter (SERIES VI for Yanks like me). I don't want give anything away but the inspiration for the orange scene involves some bananas in hospital.


	6. Chapter VI

Whitehall Palace, London 

 

Risley was seated to Cromwell's left taking dictation, when a servant announced the arrival of Richard Rich.   
"Ah, Richie, " Cromwell said, waving a hand to both welcome the Chancellor and dismiss his scribe. "Come in."   
Risley bowed and retreated behind the lattice scrim as Rich stepped up to Cromwell's desk to hear whatever news Cromwell had for him.   
"There is something new I want to discuss with you and what we are to do about it," Cromwell said. "You know, of course, that His Majesty has begun to entertain thoughts of the remarriage of Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge. Various names have been bandied about, as you are well aware. Yet His Majesty was of a mind to send the Earl of Hertford to Hunsdon. "   
"That is nothing unusual. You and I very well know that His Majesty harbors sentimental feelings for the Seymours because of the late queen, she was, after all, the mother of the Prince of Wales." Rich said. What was on Cromwell's mind? "He is checking on the welfare of the remainder of His Majesty's heirs. It is completely reasonable to send a courtier that he trusts completely to do it. May I ask where this is going?"   
"Of course you may. How are things preceding at Hunsdon?" Cromwell emphasized the word preceding.   
"Preceding?" Rich asked. He was confused.   
" Between My Lord Hertford and Her Grace? " Cromwell asked, one of the corners of his mouth curling up a wee bit. Rich knew that look. Cromwell had a plot forming in his brain and Rich was probably going to be hearing the whole of it and how he could help Cromwell execute whatever he had brewing in that crafty head of his.   
"Yes. How is the relationship preceding between the Earl of Hertford and Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge? Had he bed her yet? He has to bed her! He will eventually, of course."   
Rich was shocked by what the Secretary had just said to him. "That is treason, Master Secretary. With all due respect, you know that more so that anyone."   
"Acts of Treason can be overlooked, Richie, when the said Act of Treason will benefit the realm and keep the Papists from power." Cromwell replied.   
"What are you proposing, My Lord? Certainly when His Majesty finds out..." Rich daren't think what the consequences would be for poor Hertford.   
"His Majesty will not find out, Richie. Do you know why? Because you and I will see to it that he won't. What a brilliant idea. His Majesty will never act against his daughter, Mary. She is virtually untouchable because she has secured the succession by producing two healthy sons. Unfortunately, her Catholic husband died of a fever this winter leaving her a widow. She will need a husband. The boys do and will need a guardian and step-father. It is our duty to assure that those boys are brought up in the New Faith. What better way than by placing a man with Reformist leanings into her bed?" Cromwell explained.   
"Her Grace will not abide it." Rich stated.   
"Do not be so certain. She is pleasantly disposed to Hertford. He is ideal husband material. We have to act quickly before Gardiner and Norfolk start parading one of those overly good-looking Howard men under Her Grace's nose. I would not put is past His Grace of Norfolk if he decided to place His Majesty's groom, Tom Culpepper in her path. His is a distant relation of the duke and incredibly attractive." Cromwell explained. Leave it to him to already have figured out the potential competition, Rich thought.   
"A boy." Rich dismissed Culpepper. " Hertford is a grown man in his early thirties. But he is married, My Lord. What of the wife? He daren't repudiate another. What do we do about the countess?"   
"Merely a slight impediment, Richie. Fatal accidents can befall anyone, can't they? Hertford, of course, will know nothing. We will just set things on their course for the Greater Good and Future of the realm. We are in accord in this plan, are we not, Mr. Rich?"   
"You would advocate murder?" Rich asked.   
"The Countess of Hertford is reported to be an unfaithful shrew. It will not be a great loss. Her Grace will not cuckold His Lordship as Lady Anne and his first wife, Catherine Fillol have. She will be faithful and I am almost certain she will keep him faithful. Especially if, I warrant, she uses some of those foreign Eastern tricks that Don Franco taught her in their marriage bed. The Privy Council will give their assent to the marriage. If we come to a stalemate, I am not above using His Majesty's sentiment to sway the votes our way. As Her Grace pleases him so will he use his position as her husband to advance our cause. I foresee a bright future for us and for England." Cromwell finished.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Hunsdon House, Hertfordshire 

"Shall we see who the better rider is, My Lord?" Mary asked. They were out for their morning ride about the estate. It was another lovely autumn day, there was a crispness in the air, the early morning sun was warm on their faces. They had been bantering back and forth about all sorts of subjects when she had decided to challenge him to a race.   
"Shall we place a wager, Your Grace?" He knew she liked to gamble.   
"Yes. How much or what would Your Lordship be willing to dispense with?" She replied with a question of her own.   
"How high does Your Grace wish the stakes to be?" He asked, a glint in his eyes.   
"Your new river barge against my new Arabian stallion? Or my round set ruby brooch against your large gold chain. That seems reasonable for a race."   
"Done." He smiled over at her, nudging his horse so that they were side by side. "Ready?" He asked.   
"Are you?"   
"Always."   
"Race you!" Mary cried, spurring her horse into a trot, canter and then a gallop across the fields, Edward in keeping pace even overtaking her at some points as they rode side by side, jumping a stonewall.   
Mary urged her horse further forward but Edward kept pace. "Oh, no you don't, My Lord!" Mary cried, laughing, urging her horse that much faster.   
"Do not try to run, Madame. I can keep pace with you." He bantered back.   
"What will you do when, and if, you catch me?" She retorted, feeling a bit flirtatious.   
Edward barked with laughter. "That remains to be seen. What would Your Grace like me to do?"   
"You will have to catch me first and win the race. Then I will decide." Mary shot back, nudging her horse forward. To her great frustration he managed to still keep pace with her for several minutes until they came to a small secluded thicket of trees and both slowed their mounts to a trot and then a walk. Both riders where breathing hard with their exertions.   
"It seems that we are at a stalemate, My Lord. Though I will concede that Your Lordship entered the trees a fraction before me. I am out a ruby brooch and have been caught." She declared.   
He dismounted, the soles of his thigh high leather boots crunching against the fallen leaves. He went to help her, holding onto her waist a fraction more than necessary as her booted feet hit the ground.   
"So you have, Madame. Does this mean that I am the more accomplished rider?" They walked side by side leading their horses, trying to catch their breath.   
"No. Just incredibly fortunate this time, though Your Lordship does have an uncanny knack for accomplishing whatever he sets out to." Mary replied, she smiled.   
"So what would you like me to do since Your Grace has declared herself caught?" He asked, his heart pounding in his chest. The hard riding had awakened and aroused his senses, pricking further at his long repressed desire for the young woman walking beside him. He could feel the sparks of strong mutual sexual attraction crackling and flashing between them. Why did he appear to lose all of his iron self-control when he was around her recently? It was his duty to be her knight-errant. He had pledged himself. But lately he was feeling more like Sir Lancelot to her Queen Guinevere than a Sir Galahad.   
"What would you like to do?" She asked. Feeling that same incredibly strong sexual attraction to him, she hadn't felt this way since she had met her late husband, Franco. Her heart was beating crazily in her chest; her cheeks were flushed and burning. He looked like far too much temptation standing beside her dressed all in leather. She could not stand this tension between them for a moment longer. She had to do something. Abruptly she released her horse's reins pulling Edward to her, kissing him passionately. She started into his eyes, saying, "Is this what you would have liked to do?"   
In answer he crushed his mouth over hers, letting the reins slip from his fingers, hauling her hard against his body. All self-control and caution tossed to the wind.   
She kissed him back, kissing first the corner of his mouth, then nibbling on his lower lip. She slid her fingers into his hair, opening her mouth to him, pressing her slender body against his as things quickly became quite heated between them.   
He moved his face to look down at her, his eyes bright with desire, the last shreds of his self-control and prudence finally slipping away. "Let me come to your bed tonight."   
Breathing heavily Mary swallowed, nodding her assent. "No one need ever know?" She wanted reassurance.   
"Not anyone. I will protect you." Edward replied.   
In response she rested her head against his chest, his strong arms pulling her closer, cradling her in the warmth and comfort of his embrace.   
Edward kissed the top of her head then he held her to him. "I will keep you safe." He vowed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Given Cromwell and Rich's portrayals in the series, I would not have put it past Cromwell to hatch such a plot and to get Rich to help see it to its conclusion. At this point, the negotiations were proceeding with the Cleves marriage (Fall 1539). So Cromwell was riding high. However, all may not be smooth sailing. Gardiner and Norfolk are quite powerful as well. What will they do once they learn that the Earl of Hertford has become Mary's protector? How sentimental is Henry VIII toward the Seymour clan? Who will the Catholic Faction place in her path as a potential rival to Edward (I am open to suggestions on this one. Just not Surrey).   
>  All Royal marriages needed the assent of the Privy Council. That law was placed into effect after Margaret Douglas, Henry VIII's niece (daughter of his sister, Margaret) had another ill-fated romance with another Howard boy (what was the allure of that clan for the Tudors?!) . This one was one of Katherine's brothers. Landed her in hot water once again, poor thing. Henry eventually married Margaret to Matthew Stuart, the Earl of Lennox. They became the parents of Henry, King of Scots (Lord Darnley) and Charles, the Earl of Lennox who married Bess of Hardwick's daughter. Thus they were the paternal grand-parents of King James I/VI and Arabella Stuart.


	7. Chapter VII

Returning to the manor, they left their horses with grooms in the courtyard, walking inside to bathe and get ready for the day before attending Mass.   
Mary could not bring herself to make her Confession to Father Dominic that morning. Her growing feelings for Edward and her decision to allow him into her bed warred with her faith. She knew what she was going to do was a Mortal Sin and treasonous. Why did she not feel guilty about it? Was she willing to risk her immortal soul and possible death for the several hours of exquisite pleasure she would receive from him? What had Franco told her and she had learnt about love during the three short years they had been together? Something about love being the ultimate gift from God and not to be afraid to grasp it when one found it because finding it was such a rare and precious thing. Was she falling in love with Edward? If she was, should she grasp that love even though it was morally wrong?   
Sitting in the pew beside Edward that morning, she listened to the priest's homily, reliving what had happened between them that morning over and over in her mind whilst she stared at the testament to God's infinite love for mankind, Christ on the Cross. Praying to her Lord and Savior that the path she had chosen would not ultimately result in disaster.   
After Mass, she decided to breakfast in the nursery with the children. Her day being filled with the final preparations for the fete that evening it was the only time that day where she would have time to see them.   
He was there in the nursery when she arrived. Bent over Kate's elaborate royal cradle, watching the baby as she slept, his lips curved in a tender smile. He looked up when he heard her enter the room.   
"Your Grace," He said, bowing. The nursery staff curtsying low as she came into her daughter's private bed chamber.   
"Thank you." She said to the staff, indicating they were to leave. "I will be through to see my sons in a moment and break my fast. The Earl of Hertford will be joining us."   
"Yes, Your Grace." One of the senior rockers said filing out with the other staff behind her. Mary walked over to stand beside Edward looking down at Kate whilst she slept in her cradle.   
"She is so peaceful." Edward whispered, taking a care not to wake the dark haired little baby girl with skin the color of heavy cream. Kate decided at that moment to grunt contentedly in her sleep forcing Edward and her mother to both stifle chuckles.   
"She is precious." Mary said. She adored her little daughter, one of Franco's most beautiful and final gifts to her.   
"She will be breaking hearts soon." Edward commented.   
"She is a stubborn and willful Little Madame and just like her Grandpapa." Mary replied.   
"Maternal or paternal?"   
"Maternal. She also has the Tudor temper."   
"Like her aunt, The Lady Elizabeth."   
"Like her mother. His Majesty has requested that I bring her the next time we travel to court."   
"Does he visit often?"   
"When his health and duties allow it. I am afraid he dotes on and spoils them terribly when he does come."   
"A grandsire's prerogative."   
"He is good with them as he is with my brother, The Prince of Wales."   
"Prince Edward has the best of care."   
Due, in part, I would warrant by your concern, as well as His Majesty's. I am happy that some of that concern extends to other members of His Majesty's family."   
"Though not in the same fashion. I do promise that Your Grace will receive the same degree of care."   
"Do you now? It will be a pleasure finding out how Your Lordship attends to my needs." She whispered looking down at Kate, then up at him, their eyes locking.   
"I promise not to disappoint, Your Grace." His smoldering eyes sent a shiver down her spine. If they had been anywhere else in the manor house alone, he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her senseless. Not here, however, with Kate asleep and the young duke and his younger brother and the staff in the next room.   
"Is Your Lordship hungry?" She asked.   
"Most definitely." He smiled wolfishly at her.   
Mary blushed at his double entendre. "For something to eat."   
Edward raised a brow, his smile deepening showing his dimples. Mary blushed even redder knowing exactly the path his mind was traveling down. Naughty man! Apparently even he was skilled at the art of flirtation.   
"My sons are waiting for us." She said, changing the subject.   
CRASH! "I dinna want!" They heard coming from the next room.   
They rushed quickly to see what the commotion was about.   
"What in the world?" Mary asked, stepping inside. "Harry!"   
The young duke had tossed his bowl of oat stirabout onto the floor, one of the maids was down on her hands and knees cleaning up the mess. The young duke's face and hands were covered in the pasty stuff. At the sound of his mother's voice he turned his head to look at her. "Mummy!" He cried, gleefully.   
"Henry-Philip! What have you done tossing your stirabout on the floor?" Mary asked her son.   
"Dinna like, Mummy! Want bread and jam!" The boy cried.   
Mary sighed, catching Edward's eye. Philip, her eighteen month old was eating quietly except for when he saw his mother. "Mama!" he cried, some of his food dribbling down his chin.   
The young duke and his brother both had their father's black hair, Philip's complexion was darker than his older brother with blue-grey eyes. Henry-Philip, called 'Harry', had his baby sister, Kate's complexion of heavy cream and his mother's brilliant sapphire blue eyes.   
"Mummy and Lord Hertford are going to eat with you. Would you like that?" She asked Harry, ruffling his hair. At almost two and half he was proving to be a decisive and intelligent child.   
Mary and Edward sat down to eat their morning meal with Mary's two sons. Being a two year old, Harry decided that he wanted the earl to cut his meat and attend to him. No one, not even his beloved mother, would do. Mary would try to intervene but Harry to would begin to fuss. Philip was more complacent. He did not care who attended to him as long as his needs were met and his Mama and the earl paid attention to him.   
The breakfast dishes were being cleared, Mary and Edward walked into the old solar which had been set up as the schoolroom and where the children's many toys were kept.   
"Come pay soldier wif me." a cleaned up Harry said, leading Edward by the hand to where a set of silver and enamel miniature soldiers were set up on the floor in neat regimental rows.   
"Does Your Grace know who they are meant to be?" Edward asked.   
"Yes. Enlish and Scot. Nurse Gwyn tole me." Harry replied. "She say dat you." He added picking up a mounted warrior on a black enamel war horse dressed in silver armor with a small phoenix enameled on its trappings. He handed it to Edward.   
Edward smiled at the child's cleverness, holding the toy between a thumb and forefinger examining it. He had never been rendered as a toy until now. "Does Your Grace know who that is?" He asked, indicating an obvious slightly poorer rendition of the Duke of Norfolk also mounted on a war horse.   
"Norferk." The little boy answered. "Can we pay now?"   
Mary watched the entire scene with barely concealed amusement, her younger son in her lap holding a toy lion, a replica of one in the Royal Menagerie in the Tower of London and a gift from the king.   
Bringing it up to his mother's face, Philip made a roaring sound and then giggled.   
"What are you about, My Little Scamp?" Mary teased her younger son. "Does your lion have a name?"   
"Jus' lion, Mama." Philip replied. "He want to play. Will you play wif us, Mama?"   
Yes, Darling, but not for long. I have to see to the final preparations for the fete this evening. I promise to come and read to you later this afternoon, once the household is in proper order. "She explained to her son, a sinking feeling washing over her. It was possibly only a matter of time before both of her boys were removed from her household and placed into that of Prince Edward, she thought watching Edward play soldiers on the floor with Harry. It was a pity that Edward did not have legitimate children of his own. He obviously enjoyed and had the patience for them or he was making a great show of it.   
Mary and Edward stayed playing with the children for another hour before she left to attend to the preparations for the fete and Edward went to train with his grooms and then loose himself in the library for the next several hours.   
_________________________________________________________________________________   
"OOooo! Yes, parry again, My Lord! Thrust that rapier!" Frances Elmer, one of Mary's maids said as she stared out one of the windows of the Great Hall which over looked the courtyard where the Earl of Hertford was training with his men. She giggled.   
"Just please do not run through poor Rafe." One of the other maids added. "Or I will not have a partner for the dancing at the fete this evening." Anne Morgan another of Mary's maids lamented.   
"His Lordship would not? Oh, my Gracious! Look at that!" Frances exclaimed, as Edward advanced and lunged at Rafe who executed a fleche'.   
"Ladies, ladies! Whatever is the distraction?" Mary asked, her attention focused from Ali and Mustapha who had been demonstrating their intricate scimitar juggling routine which would be part of the evening's entertainment. The four jeweled scimitars they would be using would be presented to Edward after their performance, three for His Majesty the king and one not as heavily jeweled for the earl, himself. They had been rehearsing the intricate and incredibly dangerous routine for the past several days in secret. Today they had been able to do it to the haunting rhythmic music of their former homeland in front of their mistress who was supervising a dance rehearsal with some of her ladies which was also planned as part of the evening's entertainment.   
Mary did not think the choice of entertainment too shocking. The Boleyn had choreographed an Ethiop masque during her tenure at court and several other exotic entertainments. This was true Algerian dance, albeit not with the scanty costumes. She would not have her ladies parading about in her hall practically naked in the presence of unfamiliar men. She daren't risk their reputations or her own. They would be in regular gowns with gossamer sheer embroidered and spangled scarves tied about their hips. Two of the six maids she had chosen were distracted by the men outside instead of tending to the task at hand which was practicing their dance steps. Mary looked to where Frances and Anne were still staring out the window, speaking in hushed tones and giggling.   
"Ladies!" She cried. Finally getting exasperated, purposely walking over to where the women were. "What has the two of you so mesmerized you ca... Oh my!" She whispered the last bit, her eye catching Edward and Rafe fencing. Both men were just wearing shirts, sleeveless leather jerkins, slops, hose and boots. They looked rather dashing.   
"They are quite lovely, aren't they, Your Grace?" Frances asked her mistress, watching the expression on Mary's face, noticing her mistress' eyes intently on the earl.   
"They are just fencing, Frances. You should come away from the window before they catch the two of you gaping like two love sick girls." Mary said, averting her eyes just at the moment when Rafe turned his head to the window. What about you, Your Grace? She heard a voice mock in her head. Are you sick in love? Rafe would most certainly tell his master the women were watching them, including herself. Mary walked away from the window. "Come now ladies we must have this dance ready to perform by this evening." She said hopefully refocusing Frances and Anne back to the dance.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
That evening, Mary entered the Great Hall on the arm of the earl followed by her ladies and Ali and Mustapha, they were met with warm and enthusiastic applause by the local gentry who had gathered for an evening at her behest. Both of them nodded then took their place at the high board under a canopy. Musicians began to play a lively tune as ewers were brought forth so Mary and Edward could wash their hands before they ate.   
Then the feast was brought in. There was deer that had been roasted on spits. Roast beef, rubbed with salt, rosemary and garlic, hot and fragrant and in its own juice. Lamb, several types of fowl including some rare turkeys from the New World all roasted and stuffed with a variety of fruit and bread stuffings. There were rabbit pies, smoked salmon imported from Scotland, trout with lemon and capers, shrimp prepared with butter, garlic and lemons, lampreys in aspic, dishes of salad, asparagus, carrots, fresh loaves of bread, freshly churned butter and several types and vintages of wine, mead and cider to wash it all down with.   
"Most of the county had come to see Your Lordship." Mary stated looking about the filled hall. She smiled at Edward before taking a sip of her wine.   
"Some more eager to see me than others or so it would seem." He commented, he had felt the undercurrent of disapproval from some of the older and more conservative guests present who probably still viewed him as an upstart.   
"My Lord? Is there something amiss?" Mary asked.   
"Nothing Your Grace need fret over. I apologize for my remark just now. I spoke out of turn." Edward said hastily. He did not want to upset her.   
"Did your Lordship pass a pleasant afternoon?" She asked.   
"Yes. It was pleasant though Rafe Snow, one of my grooms, said that we had a small audience when we were fencing in the courtyard this afternoon. "He remarked, one of the corners of his mouth quirking into a lopsided smile as he raised one of his brows over an eye.   
"I see. That did not offend Your Lordship?" She took another sip of her wine.   
"No. It was not offensive at all, Your Grace. I am just sorry that there were other tasks at hand that kept the audience away from our performance. I pray that it was pleasing to those that saw it."   
"Rest assured, My Lord that the ladies who did view the goings on in the courtyard this afternoon were not disappointed." She told him.   
"Including a particular duchess?" He mused, his voice barely audible over the music.   
"My Lord?"   
"Nothing, Madame. I think I had a piece of bread caught in my throat. "He lied.   
"Was Your Lordship able to spend the rest of the afternoon pleasantly in the library?" She asked.   
He nodded. "Your Grace has quite the collection of books. The Venetian Atlas was particularly interesting. I was not aware that someone in Your Grace's household is able to read the language of Cathay. Or are there several books from that land in Your Grace's collection for novelty?"   
"Ali is able to read some Cantonese as it is called. Just enough to get by with an apothecary." Mary explained, spearing a piece of turkey with her knife.   
Soon dinner was over and the tables were removed to the corners of the room to allow for the entertainment. While the benches were set up so the guests to watch before the dancing would commence.   
Ali and Mustapha entered the hall with the scimitars to the beat of the drums. They bowed to Mary and Edward, before unsheathing the weapons. They took their places opposite one another and to the hypnotic beat and cadence of the dumbek drums and cymbals began their incredibly dangerous show. Twisting the scimitars back, forth and about to the sensual beat before tossing them to one another each man catching the hilt of each weapon with precise precision. The jewels on the hilts flashing in the candle and torchlight of the room, the intricacies of the spectacle generating applause from their audience.   
Seated at the high board, Edward could not keep his eyes off the seemingly frightening show before him. One false move and one of the Moors would be out a finger or a limb. The dance of the blades was mesmerizing. The Moors soon finished their show of skill and precision to thunderous applause. Both men bowed before sheathing and then presenting the scimitars to Edward with a bow.   
"I most certainly cannot accept..." He began, a bit overwhelmed by another generous gift.   
"For His Majesty the King and Your Lordship." The Moors intoned, bowing their heads graciously.   
"On behalf of His Most Gracious Majesty, I do accept this kind tribute." Edward replied, taking the scimitars and handing them off to a groom who seemed to materialize out of nowhere. It was quite obvious as to who the scimitar with the lesser amount of jewels encrusted upon it was meant for.   
Next it was the ladies turn. The six of them came out twisting their arms and undulating their hips to the sound of the dumbek drums, cymbals and oud which was a Middle Eastern lute. Each lady was dressed in a modified gown cut in the Spanish style in a various shades of white based on the lady's coloring, their shoulders left bare. The spangled scarves each in six different colors of the rainbow except for violet, were tied about their hips.   
At the sight of the women all the men seemed to sit up and take notice including Edward who leaned forward in his chair his eyes on the swaying, moving hips of Drusilla and Lavinia who were in the front row of the dancers, while the thumb on one of his hands began to trace sensual circles a top one of Mary's under the table his movements blocked by the table covering, his fingers lacing through hers as a finger found the center of her palm, caressing it as one would a more intimate part of her then gently moving down lower to the fleshy portion of her palm.   
Mary sucked in her lips at the feeling of the feather like caresses, trying not to give any indication that butterflies were rioting about in her stomach and pure liquid fire was coursing through her veins. She did not think she had the impetus to join the women in their dance if they asked her.   
Fortunately it was soon over and the women all bowed to thunderous applause. They hurried off the floor.   
Releasing his hand from hers, Edward inclined his head deeply to Mary. "Your Grace, would you care to dance?"   
Mary nodded. "Yes. Please." She rose, took his offered hand as he escorted her onto the dance floor. They started to dance to a stately pavane, dancing in formal patterns, changing partners with others that had joined the dance.   
Edward could hardly tear his eyes away from Mary as they executed the intricate steps of the dance. Coming together, they touched palms, briefly, then separated, then came together ever so briefly once again. Edward watched her like a hawk as she danced tantalizing close then drifted away again.   
Finally she came close enough for him to whisper so that only she could hear, "Your Grace looks beautiful this evening."   
She gave him a faint smile, danced on, then drifted back and whispered, "Beautiful for you." Lowering her lashes executing the last steps of the dance as it drew to a close.   
The guests applauded their approval. The musicians struck up another lively tune, this one a country dance. Without even thinking twice, Mary and Edward joined hands gliding quickly down the line of dancers as the men and women lined up on either side clapped in time to the music. They twisted and turned together, hopped, changed partners, came back together, grasped hands, swung out, came back again their bodies close, his chest brushing against hers, twisting back, his front against her back, their bodies fitting together perfectly. Grasping hands once again to begin their way down the center line of dancers, staring into one another's eyes, neither one being able to look away, both seemingly hypnotized by the other. Their attraction almost palpable. Edward finally had the grace to lower his eyes to avoid a scandal, knowing that all eyes of the local gentry, alderman and their wives were upon them. They would be looking for any scrap to gossip about and those tales would invariably be carried to London and the court. The dance soon ended, another one began, this one a stately basse danse from Italy. Edward and Mary were partnered in this dance as well.   
"The Dowager Duchess of Cambridge and the Earl of Hertford seem to be only content to dance with only each other." One of the matrons clucked, disapprovingly from the sidelines.   
"Tut! Tut! But look at what a handsome couple they make. I would not be surprised to hear my lord regrets that he was not free to marry when His Majesty matched Her Grace soon after he, himself, married the late queen, His Lordship's sister. Better to be married to our dear, sweet lady than to that shrewish bitch, Anne Stanhope."   
"Hush! Madge! Watch what you speak of your betters." Another lady chimed in. "You could be whipped for such talk!"   
" 'Tis the truth!" Madge whispered back watching the objects of their gossip dance past.   
They danced for several more minutes until the strains of the Italian song ended. Standing beside one another, Mary and Edward exchanged a glance, bowing to the applause that filled the hall.   
Taking Mary's hand Edward said, "Gentlemen, play a volta."   
The musicians nodded, bending over their instruments beginning to bow a fast paced Italian tune in a mesmerizing minor key.   
As everyone else moved back, Edward drew Mary close, moving his body against hers in rhythm to the music. They touched hands, stepped and whirled. Edward slid his hand in a tantalizing motion along Mary's hip, tossing her into the air, catching her and then lowering her to the floor. Around the floor they moved, touching, caressing lifting and falling. Mary's heart was pounding in her chest, her desire barely leashed. She felt every eye upon her as she and Edward practically seduced one another in front of their guests, their movements just bordering on inappropriate. They danced until they could dance no more leaving the floor to seek something to quench the flames of their mutual desire.   
_________________________________________________________________________________  
In her bedchamber later that evening, Mary dressed in a very feminine night rail of white silk with a low square neckline embroidered with Tudor roses, the ties of the gown were made of woven gold thread and red silk cord. The long full sleeves came to her wrists and were cuffed with bands of the same Tudor Rose embroidery. Her waist length red-gold curls were brushed and fell in waves about her pale shoulders. She had taken a quick sponge bath before dressing, the exotic scent of jasmine and roses added to the water clung faintly to her skin and lingered lightly in the air.   
She sat in one of the upholstered chairs a candle beside her on the nearby table attempting to read but to no avail. She found herself unable to concentrate, jumping at every sound she heard outside her chamber. She wondered if he would truly come to her. The guests had left and the house had gone to bed an hour and a half ago. She lay her book down beside the candle, got up, walking to her large four poster bed, sitting down on the edge of the crimson velvet duvet, playing absently with one of the rings on one of her fingers. She started at the subtle knock on her chamber door. For a brief moment she debated answering it. Once she did there would be no turning back. He had promised to protect her. She had been a good and pious girl all of her short life and no one would ever know...   
She rose off the bed, crossing the room to answer the door, opening it quietly.   
"I am here to attend to Your Grace's needs." He said in way of greeting. He wore a fine cambric shirt open at the neck to reveal quite a bit of muscular chest, slops and high black boots. His hair was neatly brushed back off of his face one errant lock falling across his forehead. The torchlight in the hallway cast dark shadows against his face making him look like a roguish pirate, especially when he flashed her a smile his blue eyes twinkling.   
He looked so handsome it made her ache with longing. Their eyes locked in the dim light of the torches.   
"Attend to my needs then My Lord. Seduce me..." She whispered, grabbing two handfuls of the fine cambric linen, pulling him into the chamber.   
He pressed the door shut with a palm. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her passionately, shivering with desire, inflamed with his need for her. "Yes," he rasped, breathlessly. "Oh, Sweet Blessed Christ!" He rained burning kisses from her lips, over a cheek to trace kisses along the line of her jaw. His tongue slipping from between his lips to trace the hollow beneath her earlobe as he moved his mouth lower, leaving a path of hot burning kisses along her neck, his teeth grazing her skin, his moustache tickling her, making her gasp and then giggle lightly.   
"Oh, Edward, "She whispered breathlessly, caught up in a haze of passion, pure desire coursing through her veins.   
Edward's mouth trailed down over one of her shoulders, his long slender fingers pushing her night rail gently off one of them, which he bit gently with his teeth retracing his kisses, then moving lower while the same hand's thumb caressed the top of one of her breasts. Those same fingers squeezing it gently as his teeth nipped the sensitive place where her neck and shoulder met, leaving tiny marks.   
Mary moaned with the pleasure of it, hold onto to him to steady herself, her legs shaking.   
Edward caught her, steadying her. "Do not worry! I promise to catch you, Sweetheart." Edward reassured her, pulling her close against him, nuzzling her neck, sending delicious shivers through her.   
"Every time I fall?" She asked.   
"If it would please you." He replied.   
"What would please you, Edward?" She countered slipping out of his arms. Facing him, she walked backward toward the large four-poster canopied bed in the center of the room, grasping one of his hands leading him with her, enticingly undulating her hips as she moved backward with each step, closer and closer to the bed, leading him with her. "Shall I attend to your needs? Would you like me to?" She pulled him close against her, running an index finger from the base of his throat down his chest to rest inside the opening of his shirt, teasing and taunting him. "I want you." She stated, pressing a burning kiss against his chest, just above his heart, her free hand began tugging at the hem of his shirt.   
"Let me." He moved away from her for a moment to lift his shirt up over his head, tossing it onto the floor, leaving him naked from the waist up.   
Mary could not hide her open admiration, he had the well-toned body of the warrior she knew him to be, there was not a spare ounce of extra flesh on him. His muscles were lean and slightly defined. She wanted to reach out and trace her fingers over each of them.   
"I trust I meet with Your Grace's approval." He teased, cocking an eyebrow, his lips curving into a slightly smug smile, he chuckled, incredibly pleased at her open admiration.   
The next thing they knew they were in each other's arms again, frantically dragging at each other's clothing. Pulling, tugging, unlacing, until finally, naked, they fell onto the large bed.   
Touching, kissing, hands seeking and caressing, Edward rolled her onto her back his hard, lean body pressing into hers. He could feel the sweet mounds of her breasts pressing against his smooth chest, the nipples rigid with her desire as he continued to kiss her. His mouth moved lower, he wanted to taste every inch of her, down her neck to the hollow at the base of her throat, leaving another trail of burning kisses in his wake.   
She pulled him closer to her, if that was at all possible, her senses reeling.   
His mouth closed over a hard nipple, his moustache ticking her skin, his tongue licking at the taut hard peak for a moment before he started to plant gentle kisses and then tiny love bites over the mound of flesh, gently nipping at her with his teeth, his fingers caressing her skin, running down her sides over her rounded hips and back again, while his mouth sought her other breast, giving it the same treatment as the first.   
"MMMmmmmmm" She moaned low, biting her lower lip, unable to give voice to the true pleasure she was feeling lest they be discovered.   
"Do you like this, Sweetheart?" He whispered. "Ah! How absolutely beautiful you are." He stated, planting kisses along the pink and white skin of her abdomen, he marveled at the rose petal softness of it, inhaling her fragrance. Her figure was near to perfection even after birthing three children, rounded in all the proper places. Unlike her mother, the late Queen Katherine, Mary had not put on weight after her children due to extensive exercise. The only sign was the tiniest roundness of her stomach which Edward found fetching. "So incredibly beautiful." He murmured against her stomach, his tongue snaking out to from between his teeth to slip into her navel.   
"Edward!" Mary cried, shuddering, her body arching up to meet his mouth.   
"Edward, what? What would you like me to do, Mon Coeur? Kiss you here?" His lips pressed against the smooth skin beneath her navel, his hands gently easing her thighs apart, positioning himself between them. "Or here?" The lips moved lower.   
Mary giggled at the feel of his mouth against her. "You are torturing me! Stop it!"   
"No, I will not stop because you truly do not want me to, do you, My Love? I could kiss you here, Lovely Mary." He said, kissing, then licking, the neat space where her legs met her core, close to the very center of her.   
"Yessss, Edward!" She whispered. "What are you playing at?" She almost jumped when his mouth touched her there, in her most intimate place. "Oh, Sweet Jesu..." Mary cried, biting the pad of one of her index fingers to keep from screaming as his wicked tongue sought out the sensitive jewel of her womanhood.   
She was already wet with her desire for him, her sweetness like wild honey against his tongue as his mouth pleasured her, his tongue licking at her with swift sure strokes making her moan softly with the pleasure of it, removing her teeth from her finger. Her hands sought his head, tangling her fingers in his dark auburn hair pushing him closer to her as she arched her back, tossing her head back letting out a frantic cry, her hips beginning to undulate while he brought her closer and closer to her release. "Oh, My Darling!" She whispered, while his hands went beneath her to grasp the twin moons of her buttocks, holding her fast while his mouth continued its exquisite torture, pushing her closer and closer to passion's brink until he hurtled her over the edge.   
Mary's body trembled violently with the force of her orgasm as Edward came up to thrust himself deep inside her, his length filling her tightness completely.   
"Oh, My Sweet Mary!" He said, breathlessly against her lips, before kissing her passionately as he thrust within her.   
She tasted herself on his lips when he kissed her, his tongue thrusting into her mouth to tease her own.   
Sweet Blessed Christ! She was incredible! She inflamed him with passion and a desire that he could not seem to get enough of. He took from her everything she had to give him and more until they shuddered together in a world of white-hot desire that left them both panting and spent.   
He still lay within her, atop her, as they both tried to catch their collective breath, neither one speaking for a few minutes as they lay together absorbing the aftermath of their passion.   
"Never knew that I could ever feel like this." Edward said, finally breaking the silence between them, he kissed her forehead.   
"How do you feel?"   
"Like I can touch the stars." He replied, slipping out of her, rolling off of her to lie beside her on his back.   
She instinctively sought his embrace, rolling over onto her side nesting close.   
"I am happy, content, exhilarated." Edward rolled over onto his side so they were facing one another, tilted his head to look down at her, brushing a lock of hair away from her face tenderly with some fingers. "Did I please you, Sweetheart?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: PHEW! After writing the last scene of this chapter, I need a very cold glass of white wine or white sangria! It is about time the poor man got some love and affection in his life. I would like to believe that he was lonely and hurt, that is why he made himself the King's Trusted Servant. It was to hide his pain at the betrayal of his two wives. A lot of people who hurt emotionally toss themselves into their careers. Though I guarantee this relationship with Mary won't be all smooth sailing either. He is crazy ambitious and she is an Alpha Female- we all remember who her grand-parents are. Sparks are going to be flying and it probably just won't be in the bedroom. ;-) At least she will be faithful to him.  
> I had to bring Ali and Mustapha in to another scene. They will probably be showing up more and more. Not only are they schemers but they are quite adept at using those scimitars. They are also incredibly loyal to their employer.   
> The dancing that the women did in the fete scene was belly dancing. Given how the ladies were dressed I do not think that it was too shocking for the guests. Given the nature of the household (the influences of Husband Number One, Don Franco of Spain) it may have been expected and not too farfetched given the entertainments Anne Boleyn would devise at court. For those interested, I listened to the following on Youtube as I was writing. Proved to be some great inspiration: The first bit of the following link is the Scimitar Show   
>  http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oKFKRaC64T8  
> And this is the belly dancing:   
> http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WwcOWDU1cDg


	8. Chapter VIII

You look into my eyes  
I go out of my mind  
I can't see anything  
Cos this love's got me blind  
I can't help myself  
I can't break the spell  
I can't even try

I'm in over my head  
You got under my skin  
I got no strength at all  
In the state that I'm in

And my knees are weak  
And my mouth can't speak  
Fell too far this time

Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you)

 

Well you whispered to me  
And I shiver inside  
You undo me and move me  
In ways undefined  
And you're all I see  
And you're all I need  
Help me baby (help me baby)  
Help me baby (help me now)

Cos I'm slipping away  
Like the sand to the tide  
Flowing into your arms  
Falling into your eyes  
If you get too near  
I might disappear  
I might lose my mind

Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you)

I'm going crazy in love for you baby  
(I can't eat and I can't sleep)  
I'm going down like a stone in the sea  
Yeah, no one can rescue me  
(No one can rescue me)

Oooh, my baby  
Oooh, baby, baby

Baby, I'm too lost in you  
Caught in you  
Lost in everything about you  
So deep, I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you

I'm lost in you  
I'm lost in you  
I'm lost in everything about you  
So deep (so deep), I can't sleep  
I can't think  
I just think about the things that you do (you do)  
I'm too lost in you  
(Too lost in you) - Too Lost in You, Sugarbees

 

Mary's Bed Chamber   
That Same Evening 

Did he please her? Lifting her face to his, she pulled his head down, her mouth seeking his. She kissed him passionately, her mouth moving over his, her tongue sliding slowly over his bottom lip. "Yes," she said. "Now lie back and let me."   
"Let you what?"   
"Please you, Edward." She said, pushing him back against the mattress so he was lying on his back. Mary straddled him, her legs on either side near his hips; her long hair falling over his abdomen and chest, tickling his skin. Leaning forward she kissed his forehead, the bridge of his nose, his mouth, his jaw, then his neck. "Ooooo! What happened here?" She asked, her fingers tracing over a one inch scar on his left shoulder.   
"Rapier in France in '23 during the French Campaign. I was an inexperienced youth of seventeen, though I should have known better. The Frenchman fared far worse that I, however." He replied.   
"I would imagine he did. Does it still give you discomfort?" She asked, bending her head over the shoulder to take a closer look. She kissed the scar, tenderly, her lips a soft damp caress against his skin.   
"Not when it is so gently attended to." He replied, diplomatically, smiling at her when she moved her face away. "Truly, it does not hurt at all anymore, Sweetheart. Thank you for the generous attention."   
"I see that there could be several other wounds that may need attention. Where did you get this?" Mary indicated a particularly nasty bruise on his upper right arm.   
"Training though it could be when I was pierced with an arrow back when I was in the household of the late Duke of Richmond back in '25. Though there would be no bruise left, just the scar."   
"You were my half-brothers Master of the Horse, were you not?"   
"Yes. How do you remember? I was a young man then."   
"You certainly are not in your dotage, now. Not yet." She said, running a hand about her head to capture her thick mass of hair, twist it about so it fell down over one shoulder, covering a breast, she smiled, teasingly. "Or are you?"   
Edward chuckled. "Are you mocking me?" He asked with mock severity his eyes flashing with amusement. "I was nineteen. That was fourteen years ago."   
She added the two numbers together in her head. "Thirty-three. You are a man in his prime." She commented, her fingers gently caressing his arm. Leaning forward, she pressed her lips against the bruise, while the fingers of one of his hands skimmed down her back. "All better now?" She asked.   
"Yes, all better." He replied, his fingers reaching the small of her back. Using his other hand, he turned her chin toward him, leaning up; his mouth captured hers as he kissed her. The hand on her lower back moving to hold her head while his mouth continued its gentle assault on hers. Where she straddled him, she could feel him begin to swell with desire once more.  
"Let me make you feel even better." She told him when their lips parted.   
"How? What are you going to do?" His curiosity was peaked.   
"Just enjoy it. Trust me." She replied, kissing the tiny cleft in his chin to emphasize her point, then down to his jaw, his neck to nip at the hollow at the base. Her lips began their descent down his body, planting a path of hot burning kisses over his chest, descending further over his abdomen and stomach, her hair tickling his skin.   
"What are you about, Sweetheart?" He asked, feeling the feather light butterfly kisses against his stomach all about his navel. "Oh Sweet Christ!" he hissed, letting out a breath. Who had taught her to torture a man like this? She was driving him mad with those kisses. He was completely aroused now, rock hard. "Oh, Good God!" He moaned when he felt her lips close around the tip of his member. Tossing his head back, he closed his eyes, while her mouth began to work its magic.   
Biting his lower lip to stifle a loud moan, he felt her take more of him into the warm cavern of her mouth, her tongue licking his length. She teased him for several minutes arousing him to new heights.   
"Cease, Sweetheart! Enough!" He told her, watching her release him and come up to lie beside him. Edward did not allow her, rolling her over onto her back on the mattress; he thrust into her once again.   
"Edward!" She exclaimed with genuine surprise, feeling him fill her while he moved within her, igniting that white-hot passion as he took all the more from her if that was at all possible.   
Reaching between them, the pad of his thumb began stimulating her intimately with swift sure strokes sending shards of fire through her veins. She bit her lower lip to keep from crying out. "Edward!" She finally pleaded. "Please!"   
"Please what? Come with me, Sweetheart." He said as things began getting frantic as he increased his pace until they exploded together in another burst of intense pleasure leaving them both breathless, their bodies damp with sweat.   
Afterward they could not sleep. She lay awake under the bedclothes beside him, spooned against him, her back to his front, guiding his hand over her still heated skin while he nuzzled, kissed and nibbled at her earlobe and the side of her neck down to the place where it met her shoulder. "I might not go back to court. I think I may never leave your bed..." He mused, his fingers caressing her hip. "Not tonight at least. If I knew it was going to be like this between us, I would not have been the gentleman I claimed to be that first night when I kissed you." He teased nuzzling her neck, biting it gently. "No gentle knight, I am afraid."   
"But you still would have conducted yourself with the upmost discretion? She asked, covering his hand with hers, her fingers lacing through his.   
"Of course, I will always keep my promise to you, Sweetheart. I will protect you." He replied, his voice steady. "Nothing and no one will ever harm you. I swear." 

Like the prince in the fairy tale, Sleeping Beauty, Edward awoke her with a kiss the next morning. "Good Morrow, Sweetheart." She looked luscious underneath the bedclothes, her lovely blue eyes still clouded with sleep. He wished he could climb back into bed with her and enjoy her once more. Prudence ruled over desire. To do so would create a horrible scandal. He had made a vow to her that he had promised to keep. He would never go back on that promise. "I have to go. The house is beginning to stir. I dare not chance discovery." He whispered, kissing her again. "I will see you before Mass." Bending down, he searched about until he found her night rail, handing it to her. "Slip this on. We do not want your ladies to find you naked, would we?" He asked.   
Mary's sleep cobwebs had left her eyes; she was becoming more awake, so much so that she noticed he was already dressed. The sight of him made her breath catch, especially when she noticed that he would need to shave that morning. There was a slight scruff on his cheeks and chin that she wanted to reach out and caress. "Thank you." She murmured taking the night rail, sitting up to slip it on.   
He watched her, openly admiring her luscious curves. "I do have to go." Reluctantly he turned to leave, got half way across the chamber, stopped and rushed back to the bed. Pulling her into his arms, he kissed her passionately. "I do not want to leave, but I had best go before your ladies come in and see me." He said, kissing her once more. Releasing her, he went to the door, pausing, he turned, sketched an elegant courtly bow. "Your Grace." He said and was gone.   
When he was gone, she got out of bed, stripping the duvet from the bed, examining it for evidence of what had occurred the previous evening. Finding several stains and the lingering scents of their perfume and that of the intimacy they had shared, she folded it up, stuffing it in the large chest at the foot of the bed, out of sight. Going back to the bed, she pulled back the other coverings looking at the fine Egyptian sheet. The fabric was rare and incredibly expensive; Franco's ships had brought it back from a voyage to the East. Sighing, she removed the pillows tossing them on the floor; the fine cotton was stained and reeked of the passion that she and Edward had shared. She pulled it off the bed and hastily remade it. Folding it, she placed it with the coverlet into the chest at the foot of the bed.   
There came a staccato knock on the door. "Come!" Mary called.   
The door swung open. In walked Beth Fitzgerald, Frances Elmer, Anne Morgan, Drusilla and Lavinia. Four grooms carried in a large tub, several servants carried in large jugs of water. The women carried large Turkish towels, a basket of oils, soaps and sponges.   
They all bowed at the sight of their mistress, the grooms placed the tub in front of the fire. One of the grooms stoked the fire and added more wood. The servants came forward to pour their large jugs into the tub.   
Once the tub was filled, the grooms and servants bowed and left Mary alone in the room with her five ladies. Beth Fitzgerald, Drusilla and Lavinia stepped forward to help Mary remove her night rail and to pin up her hair up before they assisted her into the tub.   
"Did you pass a pleasant night, Your Grace?" Beth asked.   
"Yes. Thank you." Mary replied feeling her cheeks and skin flush with the memories of where Edward had kissed and caressed her. Her night had been most pleasant thanks to him.   
Mary sat down into the heated water, hoping Edward's scent had not lingered noticeably on her skin.   
"Your Grace, a rider was spotted on the road and should be here in about an hour. He wears His Majesty the King's livery." Anne told her mistress, taking up a sponge to wet her mistress' back, as she got closer she noticed what appeared to be faint teeth marks on one of Mary's shoulders. Reaching for the cake of fine rose scented Castile soap, she submerged it in the water to wet it than worked it into a lather which she used to wash Mary's shoulders and back.   
"Depending upon when he arrives, receive his message and then be certain that he is given something to eat in the kitchen and means to wash the dust from his travels. I pray that he brings good news. Where is Ed...My Lord Hertford?" Mary caught herself at the last moment.   
"His grooms say His Lordship is bathing. He has sent word to Your Grace and asks if it will please Your Grace to walk with His Lordship before Mass." Beth told Mary.   
"Tell His Lordship yes but only after the messenger has been received and read."   
"Yes, Your Grace." They all spoke in unison.   
"Send one of the gentlemen to deliver my decision to His Lordship." Mary instructed. As her ladies finished washing her person, she stood to be rinsed. Beth and Frances helped her from the tub while Drusilla and Lavinia wrapped her in the towels once she had stepped on the mat they had placed upon the floor. Drying her vigorously, they helped her into a pale pink damask robe embroidered all over with wildflowers and butterflies in a rainbow of colors.   
"Has Your Grace selected a gown?" Anne asked.   
"The peacock blue velvet with the gold damask sleeves, please, pearl jewelry and a caul of gold." Mary replied.   
"Yes, Madame."   
They dressed their lady beginning with her low cut chemise. Once she was dressed, they helped her put on her boots for her morning walk. Then her hair was dressed. Pulled away from her face, twisted and pinned up, then the caul was placed. Lavinia then came forward with her jewel case, opening the lid, presenting it to her mistress. Mary removed a small strand of pearls and delicate pearl and diamond earbobs. Beth assisted her in putting then on while Frances went to fetch the pier glass so she could view the effect and Anne her fragrance.   
It was quite nice, something that would please a man, Mary thought applying her scent to her pulse points. Franco has always told her that she looked lovely in peacock blue. She wondered if Edward would feel the same.   
"Has the messenger arrived? Lavinia go to the kitchens and ask for the herbal potion. I am afraid that the wine I drank last evening unsettled my digestion." Used for stomach upset the combination of herbs also prevented conception, she daren't chance becoming pregnant with Edward's bastard child.   
"Yes Your Grace." Lavinia ran off to do her mistress' bidding. A scant few minutes later, Mary was drinking the bitter concoction.   
"Your Grace, the messenger has arrived."   
"We shall receive him in the Entrance Hall. Fetch My Lord Hertford." Mary instructed, finishing the bitter drink, handing the goblet to Lavinia, before making her way to the Entrance Hall with her ladies.   
"You sent for me, Your Grace?" Edward said bowing in front of her, his close proximity sent her heart to pounding. Be discreet! All eyes are upon you! A voice cried in her head.   
"Yes, My Lord. A messenger has arrived from London." Mary gestured to the dusty and mud spattered youth to come forward, as her attention focused on the earl. He was wearing a black velvet doublet embroidered with gold thread, topazes and jet beads. He wore a gold chain and a collar of cabochon cut blood red East Indian rubies each the size of a small chicken's egg set in gold and accented with more topazes and pearls. His slops and hose were of the same black color as were his boots that had been shined to a sheen.   
The messenger was no more than twenty, clean shaven, with golden hair and warm brown eyes, possibly the younger son of a courtier seeking favor or a gentleman's by-blow. He wore the king's livery. He bowed low in front of the richly dressed young woman with the red-gold hair. She must be the Princess Mary, the king's eldest daughter, he thought. His father told him to curry favor with the princess. She was known to be fair and just in her conduct.   
"Your Grace, I bring greetings and messages from His Majesty the King." He said in his Northern accent, handing her several packets.  
Mary opened the first, scanned its contents. "We are all commanded by His Most Gracious Majesty the king to London; even the children." She announced. "We are to be ready to be received by His Majesty in five days time at His Palace of Greenwich. Oh Gracious! That means we must start packing immediately and leave at first light on the morrow. How are the roads?"   
"Passable, Your Grace."   
"Send out to make arrangements for our nightly lodgings with certain nobles along the road to London. What of the other news?" Mary tore open another letter. "Ah! Five of our ships have returned from their voyage to the Americas, He writes. The Captain and ships wait to attend on Your Grace as so pleases Your, erm, Royal Highness," She read out loud from the letter. "Dispatch a message telling my captains I will see them within a fortnight; however, when will be at the discretion of His Majesty's pleasure." She looked over at Edward." Is your Lordship prepared for a short bit of exercise?"   
"Whatever would please, Your Grace." He replied.   
"It pleases me to exercise, My Lord."   
"As Your Grace wishes."

"So we are commanded to London." Mary said to Edward as they walked a distance away from the manor house. "May God have Mercy on me, I have tried but I cannot seem to pray away my sinful attraction to you away." She was distressed. She had thought that they would have had more private time together.  
"I promise to continue as it so pleases Your Grace to command me."   
"It would please me to have Your Lordship keep and maintain all the vows and promises You Lordship has been so kind to make to me as my knight-errant and champion as it so pleases Your Lordship and His Majesty the King, my father."   
"All the vows and promises, Sweetheart, as Your Grace wishes, will be upheld with the upmost discretion and honor. I will continue to serve Your Grace as long as Your Grace has need of my protection."   
"Is Your Lordship certain? I may require protection for a long while or so long as His Majesty may see fit to match me with another husband."   
"I am prepared to protect Your Grace as long as will be required of me and pleases Your Grace."   
"It pleases me greatly to be under Your Lordship's protection." She stopped walking, turned to face him, reaching out a gloved hand to grasp his ruby collar, giving it a tug to pull him closer to her so their bodies were now touching, tilting her head up to gaze into his eyes. "Now Sir Lancelot, Your Guinevere commands a kiss, my noble knight."   
"Who am I to deny such a pretty request?" He said right before his mouth descended upon hers as he pulled her tightly into his arms.


	9. Chapter IX

They left for London at first light. The procession was large. The first riders were Ali and Mustapha mounted on matching coal black geldings. Behind them rode the grooms. Next came the coaches containing Mary, her ladies, the children, their governess and nurses; each coach had a coachmen and two outriders on the back. Beside Mary's coach rode the Earl of Hertford astride a bay gelding with a white star. Around him and the coaches rode riders in their respective liveries. Following the riders, amidst the coaches were the officers of Mary's household, her treasurer, steward, comptroller, other household officials and menial s.   
Mary was attired in an elegant forest green riding costume edged with fox fur, a jaunty gentleman's cap with a large ostrich plume atop her head. Her hair was caught into a snood of black net that was edged with tiny jets and emeralds. She sat in the coach with Beth Fitzgerald, Susan White and Anne Morgan. She had chosen to bring a book to read and some of her embroidery, a pillow for her father, the king that she had hoped to have finished by that Christmas and a smock for baby, Kate. The pillow was of the Royal Coat of Arms on Tudor green velvet. She hoped that the activities would keep her attention focused on other things besides the man riding beside her carriage, who could prove to be quite a distraction. It was so incredibly difficult not to take discreet glances out the window to watch him ride. He was an excellent horsemen, how could she not?   
Word got out to the people along their route that Mary was traveling to Greenwich. They came out to cheer her and her children, the child and the grandchildren of their beloved Queen Katherine. Mary was popular with the common people herself. She had a kind, sweet and easy manner that many found appealing.   
In one town most of the townsfolk had come out to greet her and the children. Mary ordered the coach stopped so she could get out to meet the well-wishers. Edward dismounted to walk beside her along with her ladies. The children primarily staying in their carriage for health reasons although they did come out briefly to be viewed at a distance.  
Mary walked along the crowd which had to be at least five people deep in some places, greeting the people, listening to their troubles.   
"God Bless you, Princess!" An old woman said, her fingers gnarled with arthritis, pressing a tiny statue of St. Christopher, the patron saint of travelers, into one of Mary's hands.   
"Thank you!" Mary said, moving down the group bending down to receive and bouquet of lavender tied with a green ribbon from a pretty brunette of about ten with gray eyes.   
"Good Morrow. Are these for me?" Mary asked the little girl taking the bouquet from her hand. The girl was obviously the child of some laborer from the looks of it. Mary smiled at her warmly.   
"Yes, Your Grace." The little girl said, her cheeks reddening, she was a bit overwhelmed by the beautiful woman standing before her.   
"What is your name child?" Mary asked.   
"Margaret, if it pleases Your Grace."   
"It pleases me very much, Margaret. Did you know that I have a cousin named Margaret? His Majesty's eldest sister, The Queen of Scots, my aunt, her mother is called Margaret as well." Mary told the child making conversation.   
The adults around the little girl looked at one another proudly and at little Margaret. It was an honour to be singled out and spoken to directly by such a grand lady as the King's oldest daughter. Margaret would have a tale to tell her grandchildren when she became old and gray.   
"No, Madame. I did not."   
"Do your parents call you Margaret or do you have a special name? Meg? Meggie? Maggie?" Mary asked.   
"Madge, Madame. Me Mum and Dad calls me Madge."   
Mary laughed. "That is what I call my cousin. Consider yourself in good company with such a name. Lady Margaret is a good and gentle lady and she loves God."   
The child inclined her head respectfully as Mary moved on. Many more bouquets or various fragrant herbs and flowers and a few holy statues were given to Mary. So many that her women and the earl had to come forward to take the overflow from her arms. They bade farewell to the mayor and some of the aldermen and made their way back to the coach and the earl to his horse moving on closer to Greenwich.   
The rest of the morning Mary spent embroidering Kate's smock and doing some fine work on her father's pillow. The book would have to wait for another time or portion of their journey. She has also remembered to pack her copies of Malory's Morte D'Arthur and The Canterbury Tales by Chaucer. She was determined that in the hustle and bustle of the court, she and Edward would find some time to read together. She had found that she genuinely enjoyed reading with him, they were well matched intellectually.   
They stopped near a stream to water the horses and to eat the picnic meal that had been prepared. There was cold fowl, apples, hard English cheddar cheese, bread, butter and strawberry jam. Cook had also made special lemon curd tarts and apple pastries for a sweet. There were jugs of cider and wine to drink. They sat on blankets and pillows that had been packed for this specific occasion underneath an ancient oak tree that afforded them some shade from the bright sun.   
"There is a manor house about six or seven miles up the road that I will send a rider to tell the lord we will be requiring lodgings for the night." Edward explained to her, tearing a piece of bread from the loaf on his plate, he popped it in his mouth.   
"Is the nobleman familiar to you?" Mary asked, biting into an apple, tucking her legs underneath her, while he stretched his long ones out while he tore another piece of bread, raising a brow at her. "Because I was not familiar with the name unless the gentleman just recently came into his estate."   
"Lord Christian is his name. I believe he came into his estate several months ago after his elder brother died of a wasting illness. If the lord of the manor is the one I am thinking of. The manor is called Veroneau Place, must be a name left over from the First William's conquest."   
"He also has the proper credentials?" Mary asked.   
"Yes, Your Grace." He answered. "Lord Christian, if my memory serves, served in the French Campaign. He is a loyal servant of His Majesty the King."   
"I have no doubt that Your Lordship has vetted Lord Christian thoroughly."   
Edward had the grace to incline his head with a smile. "Of course, Your Grace. As a loyal servant of His Majesty it is my duty."   
"One that you perform quite admirably." She could not help but laugh. Of course, Edward Seymour had vetted Lord Christian, he probably checked the baron's lineage back to the Conqueror, knew the names of all of the servants in the household, what they had sold at market on the nearest town's last market day and what they had eaten to break their fast that morning. "His Majesty is very fortunate to have gentlemen such as you to attend and serve him."   
Edward grinned at her before taking a sip of his wine. He chuckled, grasping one of her hands, lifting it to his mouth, kissing her knuckles.   
Mary felt the flutters of warmth steal up her arm at his touch, her heart beating quickly.   
"We should finish our meal and get back on the road or we will never reach Lord Christian's manor, at the rate we have been traveling, until well passed dark. I care not to be on the road once night falls." Edward said picking up one of the lemon curd tarts, biting into the flaky crust, creating a bunch of crumbs that scattered along his lips and chin.   
"Oh, My Lord! Let me!" Mary exclaimed, reaching up with her fine linen napkin to capture the crumbs, the tips of her fingers touching his lips through the thin fabric.   
"Thank you. Your Grace is too kind." Edward said. She was so near he could feel the heat generating from her close proximity to him, watching her chest rising and falling, and her strong physical attraction to him simmering under the surface of a calm facade.   
Licking her bottom lip nervously with the tip of her tongue she pat at his bottom lip and chin with the napkin.   
Watching their mistress, Anne Morgan looked at Beth Fitzgerald and Susan White arching a brow over her eye. The intimacy had not gone unnoticed by Mary's women. Anne's mind flitted back to the morning after the fete when she had bathed her mistress and had seen faint teeth marks on Her Grace's shoulder. Had Lord Hertford left them? There had to be a viable explanation. She knew the reasons why the earl held Her Grace in the highest esteem. His affection for her would not go beyond the bonds of propriety, would it? She daren't think on it. It was not her place, but someone incredibly important had paid her to ascertain the nature of Her Grace and the earl's relationship and to tell them about her findings.   
"You have a bit of custard right there..." Mary said, her voice low, going to wipe a speck of the yellow confection from a corner of his mouth.   
"Your women are watching us." Edward warned. Their mouths so near to one another's' that he could turn his head to kiss her.   
Mary blushed, leaning away from her lover as though nothing untoward had occurred between them, the veil of propriety descending over them.   
They finished their meal in silence. The cups, plates, knives and food were then put away, as were the picnic blankets and pillows. The women were tucked back into the coaches as were the children, horses were mounted and they set off on their journey again.   
Night had fallen when they arrived at Veroneau Place. Lord Christian, his wife and staff were there to greet them.   
"Welcome to Veroneau Place. It is an honor and a privilege to welcome Your Grace into our humble abode. We do not know what we have done to deserve such an honor but may Your Grace's stay be a pleasant one. May I present my wife, Lady Penelope?" Lord Christian asked Mary as a pretty plump woman with ginger hair dressed in a brown velvet gown stepped forward and curtsied deeply.   
"Your Grace. My Lord." Penelope said, her eyes modestly lowered. "Please come inside?" She gestured. "We have a nursery prepared for His Grace, His Lordship and Her Ladyship. If the governess and nurses would please follow Mistress Alana."   
An older woman with snow white hair and a warm pleasant face came forward curtsying. "Follow me please." She said in a no nonsense tone, leading the governess and nurses inside with their royal charges, pausing as they past their royal mistress so that Mary could bless and then kiss each child good night while the earl looked on with an indulgent smile on his face. He could not resist caressing baby Kate's cheek as her nurse carried her by. God! How he wanted a happy home.   
"Come in! Come in!" Penelope Christian said, leading the Royal Party inside. Servants instantly materialized to take hats, cloaks and gloves. "Would ye be wanting to wash or eat first, Your Grace?" She asked Mary. "We have a lovely repast prepared."   
"Mayhap we should was a bit of the dust of our travels and then partake in some of that lovely repast." I appreciate your hospitality, Lady Penelope. I am well aware of the lateness of the hour. After we eat a quick bath, then to bed if we are to wake again to be on our way at first light." Mary explained, Lady Penelope had an honest and warm motherly quality about her that the princess felt instantly comfortable with. "His Lordship any myself will both require baths." She gently but firmly reminded her hostess as they were lead into the Great Hall.   
Basins of water and cloths were brought after Mary and Edward were settled in their seats. Mary and Edward washed their hands and daubed at their faces before drying themselves on the proffered cloths. Their hosts' household servants brought in the food. A chicken pot pie, bread, cheese, dried fruit, some slices of ham asparagus and a decanter of wine.   
Mary and Edward both ate heartily, exchanging pleasantries both of them rather tired from their day of travel and the lateness of the hour. Their host and hostess sharing their meal.   
Afterward, Mary excused herself to be shown her rooms which she noted was connected to the rooms that Edward would be using; the bed chambers connected by a back staircase. The lady's on the floor above the lord's.   
The oaken tub was already waiting by the fire when her women brought her to it dressed in a robe. Removing her robe, they helped her into the tub. Mary dismissed her women so they could attend to her traveling clothes. She soaped her arms, her chest and torso and other parts of her person as she continued to bathe. Susan and Beth came in to wash her hair. They wet her head and soaped the long red-gold tresses, rinsing it they rubbed the residual water from it, pinning the damp curls up on top of her head. Rinsing her off, they helped her out of the tub, wrapping her into a towel, rubbing her vigorously her skin turning a pretty pink with. Beth helped her slip on a fine night rail embroidered with black work and edged with frothy lace at the low neckline and on the cuffs. Unpinning her mistress's hair, Susan brushed the thick tresses and then braided them into a single braid that hung down her back.   
She went to put away several of Mary's things leaving the princess alone in the bedchamber.   
Mary rushed to the door to the backstairs the moment she heard the gentle rap, opening it.   
"I came to confirm the time we shall be departing on the morrow, to see that Your Grace was properly settled and to wish you a good night. I cannot seem to stay away." Edward said to her, he had not bathed yet having spent the last hour enjoying a glass of spirits with Lord Christian while they had reminisced about their exploits in France. His eyes swept boldly over the fine night rail, noting how the lace about the low neckline accentuated her breasts. Looking down at her all warm and fragrant from the bath, her body only covered by that bit of cambric, he felt a surge of pure animal lust slam into him.   
Reaching up, she placed the tips of the fingers of one hand up to silence him. "Shhh... my ladies are in the next room. What if one of them comes and finds you here?"   
"I will tell them I came to see if Your Grace was properly settled, 'tis true. I would be remiss..." He kissed the tips of her fingers as she drew them away.   
"Everything is comfortable. Lady Penelope is lovely hostess. Now, please go, before we end up doing something we will both regret..."   
"Good night then, Sweetheart." He said. "I will be ready at first light."   
"Good night, Edward." She said. "Thank you."   
"It was my pleasure. You are beautiful. You know that?" He told her, kissing one of her cheeks and then the other. "Good night." He began kissing her cheek, feathering kisses closer and closer to her lips until his mouth closed over hers.   
Her mouth opened under his, her tongue snaking out to tangle and fence with his as their kisses became more fevered and impassioned, their mouths almost devouring one another's as Mary pressed closer against him, her hands coming up, her fingers tangling in the fine hairs at the nape of his neck, holding him steady while a small whimper of desire escaped her lips, her breath hot and ragged against his mouth. If it weren't for her ladies in the next room, she would have lead him to the bed. Reason and sense overcame desire, however.   
"You have to go." She whispered, reluctantly releasing him.   
He understood the highly dangerous situation they found themselves in. "Good night, My Love." He whispered against her lips, kissing her one last time before he shut the door.   
Mary swallowed hard, trying to quiet her trembling, highly aroused body by taking even breaths, her fingertips caressing her wet and swollen lips still feeling the brand and taste of Edward's kisses.   
"Your Grace? Madame? Are you alright? I thought that I heard voices." Susan asked coming into the bedchamber to see her mistress visibly trembling, her fingertips pressed against lips that looked as though they had been thoroughly and passionately kissed recently.   
"Y..yes, Susan. I am perfectly fine. Tired, is all. It has been an incredibly long day. Would you please help me to bed? Is it your evening on duty?" Mary asked making conversation.   
"Yes, Madame." Susan replied, walking toward the bed to plump the pillows before her mistress got under the covers. In the soft light of the candelabrum she could see the faint flush to her mistress's skin.   
Mary got into the large comfortable bed, settling in.   
"Good night, Your Grace." Susan said, closing the curtains still disturbed by the state her mistress had been in when she had entered the bed chamber. Had Her Grace's relationship with the Earl of Hertford passed beyond the realms of propriety? There was certainly an affection there but had it gone beyond something more than familial? He was, after all, her uncle by marriage. Susan did not wish to think all that much about it, afraid of where her thoughts might lead her and what she could and would discover. She knew her mistress and the earl's reputations well. She knew that whatever was going on, that they would both have the good sense and take care to be incredibly discreet. She, herself, would never divulge any confidence spoken to her in regards to the matter, being Her Grace's loyal servant. Mary's secrets were safe with her.   
The road to Greenwich was slow going. Word had gotten out that Mary was traveling and the people came out to cheer her. This time they daren't stop to walk about. His Majesty was not to be kept waiting. They rode into the courtyard of Greenwich Palace and were met by Cromwell, Rich, Suffolk, Gardiner, Tom Seymour and Sir Francis Bryan.   
"Welcome to Greenwich, Your Grace." Cromwell said in way of greeting, looking at her closely for any subtle changes while he handed her out of the carriage. "I trust that Your Grace had a safe and pleasant journey?"   
"Thank you, My Lord Secretary. They journey was most safe and pleasant. My Lord Hertford saw to our every comfort and need. He must be commended to His Majesty for his efforts." She commented.   
"All that was required of His Lorship?" Cromwell asked, his mind reverting to the conversation that he and Richard Rich had about ten days prior. He wondered if Edward Seymour performed all that had been required of him including servicing Her Grace in the privacy of her bedchamber. He glanced at the earl, who had dismounted and handed his horse to a waiting groom. Studying Edward Seymour's face did not give Cromwell the answer to the question that had captured his curiosity. He would have to resort to other means or to wait and see how things developed before he drew his conclusions.   
"Yes, My Lord." Mary replied. "How does His Majesty fair? Is he in good health? The children are so excited to see him. Here they are now." Mary said as her three babies were brought forth. "Harry, darling, come say hello to Master Secretary Cromwell and His Grace the Duke of Suffolk, your great uncle. You remember Uncle Charles?" Mary asked her son who was lead to the adults by the governess. He looked warily at the man with the dark brown hair dressed in the severe black robe wearing the gold Chain of Office. Scanning the other adults, he recognized his Uncle Charles who had come forward with the Earl of Hertford and Bishop Gardiner. Tom Seymour and Sir Francis Bryan hanging back a bit. 

Harry walked to stand near the earl, whom the little boy had formed an attachment to over the last several days. He waited for Edward to nod and say "Yes, Your Grace. Go on." Before rushing to his great uncle.   
"Uncle Charles! Uncle Charles!" The little boy exclaimed excitedly holding up his arms to be picked up which the duke did to be rewarded by a sloppy kiss and a tight hug.   
"Hello, Your Grace. How was your trip?"   
"Wonnerful. Lord Edward handled everything." The child intoned with a voice that almost bordered on hero worship.   
"Did he now?" Suffolk asked the child in his arms while looking intently at Hertford, whose eyes were taking in all around him but at that moment had paused on Suffolk's niece for the briefest of moments. The look on the earl's face for that tiny bit of time... Sweet Jesu! Was he imagining things? Suffolk asked himself.   
"Yes. He did. " Harry said.   
As they were speaking, servants were rushing to and fro carrying trunks and other items belonging to Mary and her household inside the palace.   
"When will His Majesty be prepared to receive us?"   
"Your Grace and member of His Majesty's council are to sup with His Majesty this evening. We will leave Your Grace to get unpacked and settled in your apartments. I will see to it personally that a tub is made available for Your Grace's use." Cromwell explained as the party made its way inside the palace. The secretary was well aware of Mary's obsession with cleanliness.   
"Thank you. Until this evening, My Lords." Mary replied taking the familiar way to her apartments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: As a princess, Mary was incredibly popular with the common people. She certainly knew many of those on her estates and was known to be a kind and caring mistress and landlady. She was known to stand as godmother when asked by her tenants.


	10. Chapter X

The king and several member of his family came down the river Thames in his great barge with its green, white and heraldic banners fluttering in the autumn breeze, sunlight dancing on the dark water. The barge was filled with certain chosen courtiers. Amongst them Master Secretary Cromwell, The Duke of Norfolk and several of his relations, Bishop Gardiner, The Earl and Countess of Hertford, Sir Thomas Seymour, Sir Francis Bryan and Richard Rich. Minstrels sang and played gaily creating a festive atmosphere. Behind the royal vessel floated several others, carrying other members of the court and their servants. Everyone was wearing clothing appropriate for a picnic, and the barges' storage areas carried vast picnic hampers filled with all sorts of delicacies. Behind the Royal Barge and several of the others were wicker baskets carrying several bottles of wine from the royal cellars cooling in the river.   
Mary sat in the bow of the Royal Barge with His Majesty and her three cousins, The Marquess of Dorset, Lady Eleanor Clifford and Lady Margaret Douglas. They made a pretty group sitting next to one another each wearing a different colored gown that complimented each woman's coloring.   
Henry was justly proud of his female relations. The two daughters of his younger sister, Mary, had made good marriages. Frances had married Henry Grey. They were the parents of a daughter, Jane, named in honor of the late queen. Eleanor, the younger daughter, had married Henry Clifford, heir to the earl of Cumberland.   
The daughter of his elder sister, Margaret, also called by that name was a friendly, good-natured and high spirited girl who had an eye for a handsome gentleman. She had already spent time in the Tower of London for an ill-fated romance with a member of the Howard family. Henry noted that Madge, as she was called, had been flirting with Charles Howard, a nephew of the Duke of Norfolk and half-nephew of Thomas Howard, her previous misalliance, on the barge. His brother, George, had been hanging close by to keep his brother out of mischief or because he fancied one of the women crowded about the king, Henry could not be certain.   
The brothers were both quite handsome. Thomas possessing light brown hair and sky blue eyes. George's hair color bordered on auburn and his eyes were a smoky blue gray. In a court filled with good looking and accomplished men, these two, as yet unmarried men, stood out but not without a little push from the wily and incredibly ambitious Duke of Norfolk and their cousin, the Earl of Surrey.   
The king watched as the two young courtiers shared a jest with Madge and his daughter, Mary, everyone laughing. He watched as George Howard's eyes lingered a fraction overlong on his daughter's face before modestly lowering his lashes over his eyes in what appeared to be a flirtatious manner. Henry knew all too well about those tricks. Nan Boleyn was a Howard and had known how to use her eyes to great effect. He wondered if George was just being respectful or if the boy was harboring ambitions. They lad would have to travel carefully there, Henry thought. He would not give his Precious Pearl to just any man. Pedigree not withstanding. Especially, since from the looks of it, the Earl of Hertford's visit to Hunsdon had apparently proven to be so successful. Henry was happy to see that Mary and the earl had come to an understanding, or at least had formed a friendship during the earl's stay. Edward Seymour had certainly been incredibly attentive to Mary when they had all dined together the previous evening. Henry was incredibly pleased. He liked it when the relations between those close to him were harmonious. He would have to give serious thought to about appointing Hertford as his grandchildren's guardian. He would have to discuss the matter with Cromwell to gain the secretary's opinion on the matter. He wondered if a young courtier such as George Howard would be up to such an important task?   
"You have not answered the question, My Lord. What has your lordship been reading?" Madge asked.   
"When I can find the time to read, when I am not attending His Grace, my uncle or My Lord of Surrey, I have been enjoying La Divinia Comedia by Dante. Have you read it Lady Margaret?" George Howard addressed Margaret Douglas but his eyes were upon Mary Tudor, who was listening to the conversation intently. Other courtiers had come to stand about and listen as the cousins and the gentlemen began a discourse regarding their preferences in literature.   
"Yes. What else does your lordship read to amuse yourself?"   
George shrugged.   
"Your Lordship is not adverse to what our own honest Englishmen have to offer, are you?" Mary asked George.   
"That's it, My Dear Girl!" Henry encouraged his daughter. "Is our Italiophilic cousin of a mind to lose himself in some prose or poetry penned by one of his countrymen?" The king asked.   
"If it please, Your Majesty, I enjoy My Lord of Surrey and Sir Thomas Wyatt's poetry and Sir Thomas More's Utopia." George answered. Hopefully his answer had pleased his mercurial monarch.   
Mary almost gasped at the answer. Henry Howard, earl of Surrey was a proud and arrogant young man, Sir Thomas Wyatt at some point had been one of her father's romantic rivals and Sir Thomas More had been executed for treason. Lord George Howard was not afraid to take a risk. She waited for her father's temper to explode but the king just smiled benevolently at the young lord. He was feeling gracious today.   
"Clever answer." The king replied, with a smile and a laugh. "Does your lordship court women with poetry?"   
"No, Your Majesty. None of my own." George replied.   
"Good. Go on, lad. You and Lord Thomas are dismissed. I wish to speak with His Grace of Suffolk and My Lord Secretary."   
"Your Majesty." George Howard bowed, his eyes traveling to the king's oldest daughter with a look in his eyes that could only be described as lust when viewed by the highly observant and jealous Earl of Hertford. Have a care, Lord Howard, Edward thought to himself. If your ambitions get the better of you, you will have me to answer to.   
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Several days after the barge ride on the Thames, Mary received His Majesty's permission to visit her trade ships that had finally docked in London. It had been arranged for her to travel with several selected members of the Privy Council to welcome home her captains and to view select items of the cargo.   
Ten percent of the cost of the cargo was contracted to the Exchequer to fill the coffers of the state. Several courtiers were anxious to buy shares of the duchess' trading vessels but, at the time, Mary was not about to entertain thoughts of too many business partners. She already had the men that Franco had partnered with in the several ports of call the ships traveled to, and several selected intimates and trusted friends of her father, the king. There were no more than five. Each earning a ten percent profit from their particular trading vessel. Depending upon what was taken on and transported back from various exotic ports could affect the amount each courtier received. So far, Mary's ships had proven quite profitable. Along with the monies received from the sacking and dissolution of the monasteries, those five courtiers were becoming rather wealthy.   
They rode in a coach from Greenwich stopping at the flagship, La Gloria de Deo, The Glory of God. Mary allowed her uncle, The Duke of Suffolk to help her out of the carriage preceded by her personal body guards, Ali and Mustapha, who had stood on the carriage as outriders. They were followed by Master Secretary Cromwell, Richard Rich, Thomas Risley, Bishop Gardiner and the Duke of Norfolk. They party walked up the gang way as they were piped aboard.   
On the deck the captains stood ready to make their presentations. There were several large chests on deck each opened to display different fruits of a successful voyage.   
After the formal introductions were made each captain was personally introduced to those members of the Privy Council that were present. There was William Morrison, the curly haired blond son of a Devon merchant. John Bloom, a handsome long haired brunet with chocolate brown eyes from Canterbury. Jack Norrington, a young man out of Cornwall with a quick smile and merry green eyes. A crusty old second son of an earl, Geoffrey Henslowe, the captain of the flag ship and lastly, Colin D'Arcy, the half Irish son of a peer from county Wexford. Though the crews of each ship hailed from all over the world, Franco was very wise to hand pick Englishmen as captains of the trade ships to please the notoriously xenophobic English. It would also serve Mary in good stead to be seen trusting the care of her ships to fellow countrymen and not to rely on the expertise of some foreigners.   
"You Grace." Geoffrey Henslowe said. "There be some Aztec gold, plate and jewels in the first chest. Took us four of our strongest sailors to load that up The Gloria de Deo. We thought to use it as ballast but it was far too valuable." He joked, smiling at Mary. Taking great pleasure at her delight in seeing the treasure practically overflowing the chest. Her portion from the voyage when totaled, and when added to her other assets, would make her one of the richest heiresses in Christendom.   
"Thank you." Mary said, she stepped back so that Cromwell could get a view as Risley scribbled an inventory on a piece of paper attached to a small portable writing desk which balanced vicariously in his arms.   
The next chest was filled with spices and herbs of all kinds including cacao beans, vanilla beans, squashes of all sorts, beans of several kinds, sweet potatoes and cones of sugar.   
"What is that?" Cromwell asked indicating the dark thin vanilla beans.   
"Vanilla. The pods are stripped open and the seeds are used to flavor sweets. They are also placed into spirits for a time. The extract that is made is used to flavor sweets as well, though the intensity of the flavor is enhanced. Quite delicious. " Colin D'Arcy explained.   
"Did you get that Risley?" Cromwell asked, bending down to examine the different varieties of squashes. "These are edible?" He asked, fascinated with the different sizes, colors and shapes of the items before him.   
"Yes, My Lord. They are quite delicious when they are boiled and then served with butter." John William Morrison said coming to stand close to Colin D'Arcy.   
"Ah." Cromwell said moving onto the next chest that was filled with the furs and pelts of different species of animals, foxes, wolves, seals, stoats, rabbits among others. They were then shown a chest filled with a rainbow of different colored cloths in rich and expensive fibers. "It would not be adverse to send His Majesty a selection of the most costly and vibrantly colored of what you have here." Cromwell advised looking at Mary who had already decided to do what the Secretary had suggested. She nodded. 

"I was of the same mind, My Lord." She replied as the Secretary nodded approvingly. Suffolk exchanged a smile with his niece.   
Next there were samples of the flora of the New World. Dog wood, magnolia, sun flowers and pine apples, to name a few. Cromwell made certain that Risley obtained a detailed inventory of all the goods.   
Lastly, there was a chest filled with the fauna- species of birds and other creatures that had been killed and then stuffed. The largesse from this particular chest would, along with the live species that they had below, be sent to be placed on display in the Tower Menagerie.   
"You will all have to come and dine at Greenwich to avail us all of your adventures." Mary said.   
"We are all honored by the invitation, Your Grace." John Bloom said, gallantly, inclining his head slightly. "We thank Almighty God to be serving such a lady as Your Grace."   
"Thank you, Mr. Bloom. Leave the addresses of where you will be staying for the next fortnight. A groom from my household will contact each of you. I am certain of the possibility that His Majesty will be inclined to grace us with his august presence and will require your attendance upon him."   
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Anne Morgan was called into Cromwell's palace office at Greenwich the following morning. She was uncertain of the reason behind the summons but it did not take long for her to discover it. She had been assured that she would be paid handsomely for the information provided.   
As she sat on the edge of one of the carved wooden chairs, Cromwell leaned over his desk and said, "Tell me, Lady Morgan. You live in close attendance upon Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge. I must ask you what transpired between Her Grace and My Lord Hertford when His Lordship was a guest at Hunsdon?"   
"Her Grace treated My Lord as any honored guest would be in Her Grace's household, My Lord. Though over the week the two of them would spend more and more time together without the advent of chaperones causing Father Dominic much distress. When Father Dominic voiced his concerns to Lord Hertford, His Lordship replied that he was upon His Majesty's business and therefore as a representative of His Majesty, Her Grace was more than safe in his keeping and that he would be certain that nothing untoward would happen to blacken Her Grace's good name seeing as My Lord Hertford was there to assure of Her Grace's welfare and that of the welfare of the little duke, the Lord Philip and Lady Catherine. They would ride together every morning before attending Mass in the chapel. As the week progressed, I would catch My Lord Hertford's eyes upon Her Grace for a time that was more than deemed appropriate and she with him as though they fancied one another. They would closet themselves in the library most nights reading together. Laughter and whispering could be heard from behind the closed door."   
Cromwell exchanged a look with Rich, who raised a brow over one eye. "How long would they stay closeted together in the library reading, Lady Morgan?" Rich asked.   
"Sometimes they would not leave until after the entire household had gone to bed. One particular night, Her Grace had fallen asleep by the fire, or so His Lordship claimed. He carried Her Grace to her bed chamber. I was in attendance that night, I had the task of helping His Lordship get Her Grace into bed."   
"And?" Rich asked, prompting to hear more. "When your ladyship assisted His Lordship that evening there were no lingering odors..."   
"Like they had been intimate in some fashion? No, My Lord, not that evening. Her Grace's lips were a wee bit swollen, however. As though she had been recently been kissed..."   
"Kissed? Hmmm." Cromwell pondered. "Not that evening? There was an evening?" Cromwell was becoming incredibly interested as to where this was going.   
"Yes, My Lord. Not so much an evening but an afternoon and evening. We were practicing dance steps for the fete Her Grace was holding in His Lordships honor that evening in the Great Hall. His Lordship was training outside with one of his grooms, Rafe Snow. They were fencing. My friend, Frances Elmer and I were watching them. Her Grace came over to tell us to step away from the window but not before Her Grace's eyes lingered on My Lord Hertford. The look in her eyes bespoke of the fact that Her Grace has tendered an affection for His Lordship that may have traveled beyond the realms of propriety."   
"Are you certain of this, Lady Morgan?"   
"Yes. That evening, Her Grace and HIs Lordship only danced with each other. They could not seem to keep their eyes from one another even though they both tried to be as discreet as possible so to not create a scandal in front of Her Grace's neighbors and visiting tenants. "  
"Does Your Ladyship believe that the affection between them is shared and mutual?" Cromwell asked.   
Anne nodded. "I believe that His Lordship has tendered an infatuation for Her Grace and she is, likewise, infatuated with him."   
"Once again, do you believe that at some point the affections between Her Grace and His Lordship passed beyond the realms of propriety?"   
"Yes, Mr. Rich, I do. The morning after the fete I was in attendance upon Her Grace, helping her bathe before she began her day. I happened to be washing her back. Upon a shoulder I spied some faint teeth marks as though someone had bitten Her Grace in the throes of passion."   
"The Earl of Hertford." Cromwell supplied. "Do you think that they had carnal knowledge of one another?"   
"From what I saw that week and especially that morning on Her Grace's person, I could not think it other wise. Does this mean His Lordship will die? What will become of Her Grace, my dear lady? My Lords, please..."   
"Shhh... Lady Morgan." Cromwell patted her hand reassuringly. "Nothing will happen to either Her Grace or His Lordship. I promise you that so you need not worry. You are under oath to not tell a soul what transpired here today."   
Anne nodded, wondering what they would do with the information she had given them.   
"Your ladyship will keep us informed of any further developments?" Cromwell asked handing her a purse of money. Anne Morgan was dismissed.   
The door had just closed behind her when Cromwell turned to Rich, the brilliance of his smile would have illuminated a room. "Now 'tis the time to think about removing that which impedes the success of our goal, Mr. Rich. But it has to be done quick and the sooner it is accomplished the better."   
Rich widened his eyes at Cromwell's almost maniacal smile, sighing, he nodded his assent.   
_____________________________________________________________________________________

Later that morning, as Mary sat in a chair with her three cousins surrounding her, sewing, there arrived a young page carrying a bouquet of fragrant red damask roses. He bowed before Mary, thrusting out the bouquet.   
"With my masters compliments, Your Grace." He said, smiling as the princess took the offered bouquet.   
"Why Thank you. Please convey my Thanks to your master. The flowers are beautiful." Mary said, inhaling the blooms heady fragrance.   
"He said to give Your Grace this." The boy added handing her a folded note.   
"Who are they from?" Her cousin, Eleanor asked as Mary took the parchment, opening it, she read:   
Roses for a Perfect English Rose   
The note was in an unfamiliar Italianate hand, there was no signature.   
"Hmmm. It appears that I have an admirer that prefers to remain anonymous for the time being." Mary announced to her cousins, handing Eleanor the note to read.   
"Clever enough not to arouse His Majesty's wrath." Frances, Marquess of Dorset said.   
"Can you tell us who your master is, boy?" Madge asked.   
"No, My Lady. He prefers to remain anonymous for the time being as Her Grace said. I do know that he admires Her Grace enough to send such tribute." The page said bowing and then withdrawing. One of Mary's ladies came forward to place the roses in a vase of water.   
Mary was puzzled as to who the gentleman was, she did not have long to think as a footman in the livery colors of the Earl of Hertford was allowed in. He came toward the group of women, flourishing a bow, presenting Mary with an exquisitely carved square ebony box. Mary's cousins all raised inquisitive brows as Mary accepted the box and lifted the lid. On the white satin lining lay a pair of rare canary yellow cushion cut diamond earrings each stone was rimmed with smaller white diamonds and set in gold. Beneath the earrings lay a folded sheet of vellum. It read: 'In memory of a perfect week. Hertford.'   
A pink flush rose in her cheeks as Mary blushed. "Convey my deepest thanks to Lord Hertford." The footman bowed himself from the room.   
"So," remarked Madge when the cousins were alone in the room once again save for some ladies seated a discreet distance away. "What sort of hospitality did you extend to warrant such a tribute, Mary?" She asked, she knew that canary yellow diamonds were extremely rare and incredibly expensive. Someone was doing his best to make a proper impression.   
"I held a fete in His Lordship's honor. At the fete he was presented with a scimitar encrusted with jewels from the East. I also presented him with a ring as thanks for conveying His Majesty's gifts to myself and the children. I would imagine His Lordship sent the earrings as his own tribute of thanks." Mary explained.   
"Some tribute." Madge remarked while Frances and Eleanor laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Book consulted in regards to the foodstuffs from the New World for the middle portion of this chapter: ATLANTIC OCEAN: The Illustrated History of the Ocean That Changed The World pg. 90   
> Edward may have some competition in George Howard (Sam Claflin). ..


	11. Chapter XI

A week later, Anne Stanhope and Sir Francis Bryan were laying in Anne's bed chamber, naked and alone except for a fly on the bedcovers and the morning sunlight strobing through the floor as tree branches beyond the window swayed in the breeze.   
"I thought your husband warned you to stay away from me, " said Bryan, shifting up onto his elbow and running his finger along her lower lip.   
"He did," said Anne. "But now he doesn't care. He said he couldn't be bothered to kill you."   
"He doesn't care because he has lain with a woman and it wasn't you. It takes a man to know it."   
"While visiting that pious little prig?" Anne asked.   
"I don't know. Three years of marriage have agreed with Mary. She has blossomed into a beauty. I would warrant she knows all about the pleasures of an old country practice having been matched to a man such as Don Franco Hapsburg." Bryan replied.   
"Don't tell me you fancy the young widow?" Anne asked.   
Bryan grinned, wolfishly. "She is probably a passionate and delicious handful but I would not risk His Majesty's ire. I prefer to die in my bed."   
"Which one of Mary's ladies do you believe Edward lay with? One of the harem concubines? It would not surprise me if they shared him between them." Anne said, waspishly.   
"Nay. Mary guards their virtue fiercely. Someone else. I will search about and let you know, my dear."   
"He is angling about to be named her children's guardian. Along with Prince Edward, he sees the guardianship of Mary's children as his destiny."   
"He would raise the boys in the New Religion?"   
"Much to the lady's distress, yes." Anne said rather smugly.   
"Oh, I don't know. They appear to have come to a sort of truce and have developed a friendship. He may be able to cajole Her Grace out of her reservations. They like to read together. "   
"Do you truly think so? She can do what she likes as long as she keeps him occupied."   
Bryan grinned. "Whatever she likes?" His meaning was clear.   
Anne slapped at Bryan playfully. "Within reason."   
KKK

That evening there was a dance in the Great Hall. It was filled with courtiers and nobles, all dressed in their finest gowns and coats, stepping and whirling like colorful birds to tunes played by king's hand-selected ensemble in the balcony. Mary said beside her father, who sat on his throne beneath a gold canopy watching the festivities. They were surrounded by the king's family.   
Since Franco had been dead for over six months, Mary was out of black and allowed to add gray, white, purple, blue, brown and shades of dark green to her wardrobe. This evening her father was pleased to see her in an ivory velvet gown decorated with gold embroidery and pearls. He liked to see his daughter elegantly dressed, it reflected well on him. He knew he was biased, but Henry was of the mind that his daughter and nieces were four of the most lovely women of his court. Henry's keen eyes had not missed the discreet looks Mary was receiving from several courtiers, either. He really should get about the business of finding her another husband, he thought. After his own marriage to Anna of Cleves. With the last voyage to the Americas of Mary's trading ships, there would certainly be enough revenue in the Exchequer to afford two weddings.   
"Is Your Majesty of a mind to dance this evening?" Mary asked breaking into Henry's thoughts.   
"Nay, my daughter. My leg pains me this even'. If your feet ache to dance I will find you partner. Lord Hertford!" Henry called, beckoning to Edward with a hand gesture.   
"Your Majesty." Edward asked excusing himself from the clutch of Privy Councilors he was talking with to approach the king.   
"The Duchess of Cambridge's feet ache to dance. Humor Her Grace, My Lord." Henry commanded.   
"Majesty." Edward inclined his head, deferentially. Turning to May he offered one of his hands. "Your Grace, 'twould be an honor to partner you, Madame." He said, graciously.   
The contact of their fingers sent fire and ice tingling up her arm as Edward helped her up from her chair, while Henry looked on approvingly.   
Across the Great Hall, in another clutch of nobles, the Duke of Norfolk watched, his eyes shooting daggers at Edward Seymour. "Damn the king's sentimental heart to hell!" He muttered low so only the men on either side of him could hear. He took a long drink from his goblet of wine.   
On the dance floor, Edward led Mary in the intricacies of the dance. They came together, touched hands, went apart, came together, again.   
"We have yet to finish Malory's Morte D'Arthur." She said to him.   
"Whenever Your Grace sees fit to command me, I am yours to obey." He replied.   
"As soon as Your Lorship can obtain His Majesty's leave to attend me." Mary said.   
"I am certain His Majesty can give me leave to spend time amusing and pleasing Your Grace." Edward replied. "OUCH!"   
Mary gasped. "What is it?"   
"You stepped on my foot." He turned away and limped off the dance floor, with Mary following closely, wringing her hands. He stepped around a corner, out of sight from the rest of the court. When Mary caught up with him, she was startled to see him standing up and grinning.   
"I thought..." She began.   
"You did not step on my foot. I wanted a few moments alone with you, Sweetheart." He replied, his eyes searching and studying her face focusing on her mouth. "I really want to kiss you..."   
Mary sighed, unable to resist him, allowing him to pull her into his arms. Soon her hands were all over his neck and shoulders as they began to kiss passionately, their mouths seemingly devouring one another while they nibbled on each other's lips, their breath coming in hot, short pants.  
Edward's mouth moved from her lips, over her cheek and southward to her neck, his breath hot against her skin.   
Mary's senses were whirling, she knew she had to be sensible, she had to. This was madness! Complete delicious madness! The entire court and her father, the king were only feet away while she stood here kissing this man as though her very life depended upon it.   
"Edward, darling! Stop! Please!" She pleaded trying to disengage herself. Why, when they were alone together, could they not manage to keep their hands from one another? She and Franco had had passion in their relationship but not like this.   
He released her, feeling slightly guilty. He had vowed to protect her and here he was giving into reckless passions. They had best return to the dance before they were sorely missed and tongues would start to wag. "One more kiss?" He asked with a smile, showing his dimples.   
"Later." She replied, composing herself before she and Edward stepped back into the activity of the court.   
"You give me hope, Sweetheart." He whispered.   
"Your Grace. My Lord Hertford. Is there something amiss?"   
"Nothing that would concern you, My Lord." Mary said imperiously, looking coldly into Henry Howard's eyes, making it clear she was not to be questioned.   
Damned Tudor Wench! Henry Howard, Earl of Surrey thought to himself. As arrogant as her father. "Your Grace." He inclined his head respectfully glaring at Edward as the earl walked passed him.   
"I was taking Her Grace back to His Majesty the King." Edward said, one of his hands pressed proprietarily on the small of Mary's back.   
When Edward and Mary got back to the dais, Henry was surrounded by the Duke of Norfolk and some of his relations. They were listening to George Howard tell about his recent travels to the Italian states. The king lifted a finger indicating that George cease his tale for a moment. "My Dear, Lord Howard is telling an interesting anecdote from his travel to Venice. Listen. Come join us, Hertford."   
George Howard could not contain his delight at seeing Mary once again. "Your Grace." God! What was that perfume she wore? She smelled divine, he thought as he moved over so she could sit near him. Hertford stood directly behind her.   
"My Lord." Mary acknowledged him with a nod. "Please resume the telling of your anecdote."   
"Where was I? Erm, yes, they have very few streets. Everyone gets about on the canals in barges they call gondolas. They still have religious festivals where the entire city is decorated including the gondolas which are covered in flowers and ribbon streamers." George enthused. "And the food... the cheese and wine alone, and the olives. Not unlike the interesting delicacies I heard Your Grace's captains brought back from the Americas recently." George looked directly at Mary, his smoky blue eyes bright with undisguised interest; it irritated him that the Earl of Hertford always appeared to be about her like a Spanish duenna, seemingly guarding her virtue. The earl needn't be so concerned; Mary was a grown woman and did not need protection especially not from some upstart New Man like Edward Seymour. He should leave such things to his betters, George thought bitterly. How much favor could one man expect because his late sister had given the king his heir? Damned man had become too haughty and prideful for his own good. Someone ought to prick that pride. It also rankled George to see Mary focusing her attention on the earl when he spoke, as though manna from heaven was coming forth from his mouth. UGH! George refocused on what Mary was saying. Something about vanilla beans being preserved in spirits to create an extract that was then used to flavor sweets.   
"There is also something done to the cocoa beans. I do not recall what Mr. Henslowe said. Something about a drink being made from the ground beans. He most certainly could explain it better than I." Mary said. "Lord George did you see how the famous Venetian glass is made while on your travels?" Mary also wanted to ask if he had encountered any of the famous Venetian courtesans. Franco had spoken of them several times and it had sparked her interest but a lady of her breeding would not ask such an inappropriate question in public.   
"Yes, Madame, we visited one of the best glass blowers in the city. I was about to bring back several goblets, plates and bowls back with me." George replied.   
" As well as several books." Mary provided.   
George smiled and chuckled, preening under her attention. "Cases, Your Grace. With His Majesty's permission I would be delighted to show them to Your Grace. That is, if Your Grace is of a mind to see them." George offered, trying not to appear smug when he caught the flash of annoyance in Edward Seymour's eyes.   
All eyes turned to Mary waiting for her answer. "If His Majesty gives his permission it would please me to view the collection of books that Your Lordship found in Italy."   
"You have our permission, My Pearl. Lord Howard, we trust that you will take care of Her Grace for the time that she is in your keeping?"   
"Yes, Your Majesty, the upmost care."   
"If you have any reservations regarding conduct look to My Lord Hertford as an example." Henry said, gesturing to Edward, who inclined his head graciously.   
"Majesty, I am honored. As a loyal Englishman it is my duty to protect that which is most precious to Your Majesty and to the realm."   
"We have as yet to decide why we keep you about us more, Hertford. Your immense capabilities of that silver tongue in that handsome head of yours." Henry commented with a chuckle. He reached over, patting one of Edward's arms, not catching the look of triumph Edward flashed ever so subtly George Howard's way. "We just keep Lord George and Lord Charles about because we like the ladies to have some pretty men to look upon other than our self." Henry added, jesting good naturedly. Those about laughed.   
The dance ended after midnight, the guests reluctantly giving into weariness and the lateness of the hour. The musicians in the balcony wrapped their drums and fiddles, flutes and lyres, as the ladies and nobles drifted from the Great Hall and went their separate ways. As Mary, followed by her ladies, turned to move in one direction down the corridor, she looked back to see a gentleman watching her but in the dimness of the light she could not tell who.   
George Howard stood in the shadows watching her retreating back, the gentle sway of her hips. His uncle, the Duke of Norfolk had told him that he could make George a prince. If bedding and wedding Mary Tudor was part of the bargain so much the better, he thought feeling his loins tighten. She was a widow with the experience of those courtesans he had encountered in Venice, or so rumor had it. He would have the greatest pleasure finding out. Thoughts of Mary naked in his bed doing things to him that Veronica had shown and done to him that sultry night in the gondola made George's member harden. He would be showing Her Grace much than the books he had found in Venice.   
KKKKKKK  
Edward Seymour was in a foul temper, Norfolk and Gardiner weren't at all subtle in their dangling of George Howard in front of Mary like some prized stud, ready to be bought and then felled on the mare with the best bloodlines in the paddock. Who did the Reformers have as legitimate competition but his younger brother, Tom, a man who Mary had already expressed dissatisfaction with? The other, Sir Francis Bryan, was an old libertine and his wife's lover. He would not allow Sir Francis ten feet near his beloved. Lord only knew what sorts of things Bryan had picked up in various beds over the years, and not just more skills as a lover. He would not chance Mary contacting the French Pox in Bryan's bed. The thought of that one eyed lecher intimately touching and giving pleasure to a woman Edward was falling hopelessly in love with made him very angry. Try as he might, he could not seem to stay away from her, quite the contrary. His head told him to petition the king for an international appointment but his heart was telling him to stick close and take advantage of the times that court life, both their close proximities to the king and their shared love of learning, especially reading, placed them in one another's company. He sat back in a chair near the fire for a moment, an idea forming in his head. "Field!" He called for one of his footmen.   
"Yes, My Lord."   
"Go and find all the late autumn roses and rose petals in the city and have them delivered to Her Grace the Duchess of Cambridge's chamber. If I am needed, tell whomever I have gone out and will not be expected back for several hours. If anything goes amiss with the flowers I can be found at the gold smith's, you are familiar with the one of which I speak?"   
"Yes, My Lord." Field replied, wondering about the earl's sudden interest in jewelry. This was the second time His Lordship had personally traveled to the gold smith. Whoever the lady was, and it was not the countess, His Lordship had tendered quite an affection for the lady.   
KKKKK  
Norfolk had found a small private gallery in his apartments in the palace where George could entertain Mary. The books were displayed on a damask cloth that covered an English oak trestle table. On a side table there were set decanters of red and white Italian wines that had also been brought back from George's travels, along with cheeses, cured meats, grapes and figs, there were loaves of bread on a wooden board to be cut with a knife or torn as the diner saw fit.   
"Do not be too heavy handed with her, boy. She is not completely out of mourning. Flirt with her, capture her interest, charm her, steal a kiss or two, and whet her appetite." Norfolk said, dispensing with advice to George. "She is ripe to have another man in her bed and what a lovely prize to have in yours, George; if you get sons on her so much the better."   
George smiled at his uncle's comment, entertaining fantasies of the princess in his bed. "She is, erm, rather appealing." George said, searching about for the appropriate words.   
"Norfolk laughed. "That rather appealing young lady is the key to your glorious future." He stopped speaking when he heard one of his servants announce the princess. She came into the gallery wearing a pale grey velvet gown followed by several of her ladies.   
Seeing Mary all the Howards bowed, showing their respect. Norfolk looked to George.   
"Your Grace, it is an honor to have you come and grace us with your presence." George said, bowing over her hand, once again. He kissed the top of it.   
Mary felt a tiny tingle on her skin where George Howard's lips had pressed against her. Standing close to him, she could smell the faint odor of Egyptian musk, subtle and elegant. Like the way he was dressed. He cut a fine figure in his Italian clothes.   
"Thank you, My Lord for the invitation and His Majesty for granting his permission. Are the books over here?" She asked looking toward the table.   
"Yes, Your Grace. If Your Grace would follow me." George and Mary advanced to the table, her eyes widening with undisguised pleasure at the array on the table. She rushed forward, unable to help herself as she picked up a bound collection of Michaelangelo's sketches, thumbing through them, her face flushed with pleasure.   
"This is amazing! Simply amazing! Look at the sketches of Our Lord!" Mary closed the cover and moved onto something else. For several minutes, she went down the table like an excited child on Christmas morning, touching this, looking at that.   
George watched her with an amused smile on his face. She would be an easy wife to please, he thought to himself.   
"Are there any other things your learnt or found in Venice that you found to your liking, My Lord, that Your Lordship wishes to share?" They were alone now, Norfolk having shooed Mary's ladies out. He wanted to give George some privacy.  
"Did you see this book over here?" He asked, walking over to a bound volume of Da Vinci's sketches.   
Mary followed watching as he opened the volume, standing aside so that she could get a closer look. She stood over the table, George standing behind her, his body close to hers while he looked over her shoulder. Her physical closeness set his heart to pounding.   
"Oh, my!" Mary exclaimed, giggling seeing the man on his flying contraption. She turned about quickly, her front brushing against his; it was not at all unpleasant. "My Lord..." She began, he was so close.   
George's lips pressed against hers, slanting over them as he kissed her.   
Where was the feeling of melting? Why wasn't her head spinning? It was pleasant; there was no denying that, she liked the feel of his mouth on hers. She could not deny it. But it was most certainly not like when Franco, and most definitely not like when Edward kissed her. When George pulled apart from her she felt as though she could function normally, it was not so with Lord Hertford. "Did you learn to kiss like that in Venice?" Mary asked softly.   
"Aye. That and many other things to please a lady." He said, boldly, reaching up to caress one of her cheeks.   
"I see. I am not a lady but a princess of the blood. Did they teach you in Venice how to tarry with such as me?" Mary asked, removing herself from his embrace. She hurried back to her apartments her ladies scurrying close behind.   
When she finally got there and the doors opened she gasped. There were fragrant roses and rose petals strewn everywhere in shades ranging from white to red and pale ivory to the deepest apricot. It was beautiful.   
"This was delivered for Your Grace." Frances, one of her ladies, said handing Mary a small silver box. Taking the box, Mary held it in one hand, lifting the lid. One the red velvet lining lay a pair of cornflower blue sapphire earrings the edges of the stones rimmed in gold filigree. The stones were most certainly Indian.   
"Do you know who delivered such a lovely gift?"   
"Another footman in Lord Hertford's livery, Your Grace." Frances replied.   
Mary flushed removing the accompanying note. Opening it. It read:   
'Anticipating later... Hertford.'  
She could not contain the smile of pure pleasure that lit her face. "That darling man!" She exclaimed unaware of the knowing look on Anne Morgan's face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Just some interplay between the warring court factions. Sorry if the flowers and the jewelry sounded a bit repetitious from the previous chapter but Edward was desperate. He does not want Mary to fall prey to the Howards. What a better way to remind her of him (as if she would ever forget)? And... Edward did not send the flowers in the previous chapter! That was George Howard! He just sent the lovely earrings.   
> Some of the information I took for the portion on Venice is from prior reading and a lovely movie called 'Dangerous Beauty/The Honest Courtesan' about Veronica Franco. One of my favorite movies of all time. Historically, Surrey did spend some time in Italy, I would think that George would have accompanied him.


	12. Chapter XII

'What if the Prince on the horse in your fairytale

Is right here in disguise

And what if the stars you've been reaching so high for

Are shining in his eyes' - From 'It's the Stuff that Dreams Are Made Of' by Carly Simon 

 

A few days later, upon a bright, sunny, rather warm day for late October, dressed in country clothes, Mary and Edward set out together in a row boat along the Thames River. Getting suspicious of the amount of time his daughter seemed to be finding herself in George Howard's company the past few days, the king had commanded that Edward Seymour take her away from court for an afternoon. What better man to trust with Mary's welfare and security? Henry had thought when he had approached the Earl of Hertford after a meeting of the Privy Council two days ago. Edward had humbly accepted the king's command.   
Edward sat in the center of the boat at the oars, dressed in a sleeveless brown leather jerkin, a fine full sleeved cambric shirt, slops and black leather boots, wearing his sword and dagger. Beside him, tucked under the seat was a wicker hamper filled with a simple meal of cold fowl, bread, cheese, apples and a jug of wine, two goblets, a blanket two small pillows and Mary's volume of Malory's Morte D'Arthur.   
Mary sat in the bow of the boat, dressed in a low cut long sleeved chemise, a black bodice and dark green woolen skirt. Her stockings were plain, the garter black with little red rosettes, and upon her feet were half length black leather boots. Her long red gold hair was loose about her shoulders held back from her face by a stiff band covered in black velvet. She wore no jewelry. A loaf of stale bread in her hands, she broke off small pieces, tossing it in the water for the ducks and swans that were trailing the boat, devouring the pieces of bread as soon as it hit the water.   
"Good way to catch some fowl or even the fish, if ye be wantin' it for supper." A man in another boat said to Mary as he bobbed beside them watching her feed the birds.   
"Hmm.. . I had not thought about that. Had you, My Lord?" She asked Edward, tossing another small piece of bread into the water.   
"Are ye from Greenwich then?" The man asked being friendly. Both passengers in the other boat looked well-born.   
"I am. Ned here is from Wiltshire, aren't you?" Mary asked Edward.   
"Yes. Near Wolf Hall." Edward supplied.   
"You serve My Lord Hertford then, or his younger brother, Sir Thomas bein' from Wiltshire?"   
"His Lordship. Moll here serves Her Grace the Duchess of Cambridge."   
"The Princess Mary?" The man asked.   
"Yes." Mary answered tossing another piece of bread to waiting swan in the water.   
"'Tis rumored that His Majesty is casting about for another husband for Her Grace, seein' as she was left widowed so young. I know it ain't my place to say, but I pray that Old Harry matches her with an Englishman. We've had enough foreign alliances save for the king's. Her Grace should have a fine honest Englishman for a husband. Look at me prattlin' on to ye. I will leave ye to yer rowing, Young Ned. Good Day." The man ended the conversation, moving off.   
"Do you think that he had any suspicions as to who we were?" Mary asked Edward when they were out of earshot of the man's boat; he was about twenty feet away, the current having carried him downstream.   
"Doubtful." Edward replied. "I am glad we are rid of him."   
"Why?" Mary asked.   
"He was not behaving properly in the presence of a lady. I did not care for the way that Master Fisherman was ogling your breasts, Madame." Edward said frankly. "If we had stayed a moment longer I am afraid that the man's drool would have sunk his boat." Edward added teasingly, half serious, he was relieved that he had his weapons upon him.   
Mary gazed at him unbelievingly. "That is not true and well you know it!" She exclaimed.   
"Is Your Grace calling me a liar then?" He asked in mock indignation. "You do not believe me? Will I have to mimic him to refresh your memory?" Edward asked, proceeding to do his best imitation of the fisherman leering at her bosom. He was so comical that Mary began to laugh.   
"You are horrible, My Lord!" She told him through peals of laughter. "Just dreadful. Master Somers should have a care for his position. I fear that you may be taking it from him."   
"So, Your Grace would have me play the fool for you? Engage in foolish antics to amuse you?" Edward asked. "Does my lovemaking amuse you?" They were alone together where they could speak honestly and openly with one another.   
"What I do remember it was most pleasant and pleasurable, but I do not recall if I was at all amused by it. You will have to refresh my memory."   
"Refresh your memory?" Edward asked smiling, he chuckled. "This time, I will be certain that you never forget, Sweetheart." He added with a roguish grin.   
Your Lordship will be kind enough to oblige me?"   
"Is George Howard as obliging?" The question was out before Edward had a chance to check himself.   
"In what manner? He is amiable, kind, amusing, and pleasant company. Rather handsome." Mary mused. So Edward was jealous.   
"A Howard and a Catholic. Norfolk and Gardiner hope that Your Grace will marry him. That is what His Grace of Norfolk is about. The whole court knows it. His Grace overstepped his himself a bit and annoyed the king this week, however. His Majesty has had his fill of Norfolk's unbridled ambition for the moment. Hence, his command to take Your Grace from the court for an afternoon."   
"A command that Your Lordship was so humble to accept. Norfolk and Gardiner will not force the council to vote on the issue of my marriage, will they? Not now. It is far too soon." Mary was worried, she was not inclined to give Edward up just yet nor was she inclined to marry. In the end, however, she was bound to do whatever His Majesty the king commanded.   
"No. My Lord Canterbury, Lord Cromwell, His Grace of Suffolk and several of us would not allow it, much to their Grace's annoyance. Ah! Here we are." Edward said coming onto a secluded bank of sand that gave way to some grass and a small copse of trees. It was a lovely spot for a picnic and a lovers' tryst.   
Edward stepped out of the boat, his boots sinking slightly into the sand, offering Mary a hand as she rose off her seat, grasping the wicker hamper in her free hand. He swung her over the edge of the boat, holding her about the waist, their bodies brushing against one another's.   
"His Grace of Norfolk presumes overmuch." Mary said looking up into Edward's face. "I have as yet to complete my year of mourning. How dare he!" Mary was visibly angry with Norfolk. Hopefully that anger would trickle down to Lord George Howard Edward prayed staring into her flashing blue eyes.   
"I would not worry. His Majesty is enjoying the status quo far too much to effect any changes. His mood has much improved as of late with his family about him. The council would be foolish to upset that harmony. Suffolk, Cromwell and several of us know and see this though Norfolk does not." He released her, walking up to the secluded clearing.   
"He does not care about my father and the welfare of England. Only his own."   
"Exactly. That and I fear his ambition. For all of his skills as a tactician on the battle field, which I do respect, being a soldier myself, he does not have the finesse to gauge His Majesty's mood and what is in the best interest of the realm."   
"He and Surrey believe themselves nobler than His Majesty and the Tudors. Their arrogance will be their undoing one day, I fear. "Mary walked beside Edward, reaching a spot she deemed appropriate she laid the wicker basket on the grass. "This is a lovely spot, don't you think so?" Would you please help me with the blanket and pillows?"   
"Lovely and very private." Edward remarked looking about the spot she had chosen. "Of course, I will help you." He took the opposite edges of the blanket, helping her put in on the ground, then caught the pillow she tossed to him. Watching while she sat down on the blanket to remove their meal; arranging the food on two plates that one of the cooks had placed in the basket for them.   
"Wine?" She asked, removing the stopper from the jug with a hand, pouring it into the two goblets, she handed him one while he crouched down to sit beside her, his long legs stretching out on the blanket.   
"Thank you. A toast. To Moll, the Loveliest Servant in London-town." He said.   
"London-town?" She scowled at him, pulling her goblet back.   
"England then?" He lips lifted into a smirk, he knew she was playing with him.   
"England?" She inquired again, pulling her goblet back another inch, smiling.   
"Alright! Christendom!" The smirk turned into a devilish grin, his eyes twinkling.   
"Much better!" She exclaimed approvingly finally clinking his goblet against hers. Before she could take a sip, she watch him sip his and then place the goblet on down on the grass near where he was sitting.   
The next thing she knew he was looming over her, his face inches from hers "Take sip from the goblet but do not swallow." He instructed her.   
"Do not swallow?"   
"Yes. Do as I say or I will have to chastise you." He was of a mind to play.   
"You wouldn't." She protested.   
"Wouldn't I?" He was smiling.   
"Very well." She took a sip of wine from the goblet, holding the red liquid suspended within her mouth.   
"Perfect." He whispered, his mouth swooping down to plunder hers, drinking the wine from her with his lips and tongue. His tongue fencing with hers for several minutes, the kissing giving rise to increasing passion, quite quickly.   
Snaking her arms up, Mary tangled her fingers into his crisp dark auburn hair, kneading his neck with her finger tips as things became more fevered and frantic. A cry of desire sounded in the back of her throat. George Howard does not make me feel like this, she thought, kissing Edward back with even more passion. Her body felt like it was on fire, the heat settling in the core of her which was beginning to throb with need.   
Edward seemed to have anticipated that need; Mary felt the fingers of one of his hands begin to raise her skirt and petticoats baring her naked skin to the heat of the sun and creating a heat of its own where he touched her. Those same fingers were soon tracing tiny circles up her black stockinged leg from knee to the lace edge at the top of her garter to the petal soft smooth hot naked skin of her inner thighs. His fingertips getting bolder the closer they got to their ultimate destination.   
"Your skin is so incredibly smooth, Sweetheart. So incredibly smooth and hot. Are you burning for me, Mary? Are you, My Love?" He asked his voice thick with passion. His fingers finally tangling in the red-gold curls of her sex.   
Mary gasped when he touched her intimately; his finger gently slipping past her curls to caress her slick heat, his index finger flicking her little jewel, while the others teased her opening, two fingers thrust into her sheath. "Oh, Dear Lord! Edward!" She pleaded. "Edward!" Her hips beginning to move with the thrusts of his fingers as she felt herself being drawn down into a vortex of pure passion by the skillful digits; slipping his two fingers out of her sheath they were soon joined by a third filling her passage, all three thrusting in and out.   
Edward chuckled when he heard her whimper with desire, her hips moving as his fingers made love to her.   
She knew he was jealous of the attention George Howard was paying her. Was this his way of ruining her for George or any other man? Did he believe that after he was through with her no other lover would do? That she would not want anyone else but him? The arrogance of the man! Of course, he was probably right. At the moment she felt as though her bones were melting especially when another finger touched her little jewel and began working it until there was nothing left but the overwhelming sensations of what his talented fingers were doing to her, the incredible sweetness of it sending her higher and higher until she fell over the precipice into a searing orgasm that left her almost screaming her release.   
His thumb teased at her as the tremors of her release subsided.   
"Don't." She warned very sensitive at the moment.   
Edward moved his hand away, running his slick, wet finger tips over her soft skin caressing one of her hips. "Was that amusing?" He asked, kissing her tenderly.   
"No. It was most extremely pleasurable. What do you seek to do, sir? Destroy me for others?"   
"Mayhap, would you like me to?" He asked. "You are a fever in my blood, a burning hot fever. Does my touch make you burn?"   
"You know it does, God help me! I fear that I am sick of fever for you, Edward. A sinful fever that I cannot resist."   
He smiled smugly at that. The arrogance of the man! She knew he would have all if he could. He was as ambitious as Thomas Howard, the Duke of Norfolk. She had best end this reckless affair, it was treasonous, and she had to learn restraint. Is this how her aunt had felt with her Uncle Charles Brandon? What made matters worse was her father kept tossing them together, commanding them to spend more and more time together. He was her king; she had to obey no matter what Father Dominic had to say. She had tried to assuage the guilt of her sin by spending hours in prayer and by good works, among them a large donation to the poor. The truth of the matter was, they were falling in love and the only cure for it was separation which in the confines of the court was virtually impossible. She felt completely like Queen Guinevere in Malory's book. Edward was her Sir Lancelot, though this was not a romantic tale this was very real and she knew it. Why had God made her life so complicated? And worse, why had He willed it that she loose her heart to Edward Seymour?   
"I will do my best to help cure your fever." He responded, grinning.   
"How do you propose to do that?" She asked.   
"His grin widened. "We may never leave your bed." He said, wickedly.   
She smacked at him, blushing scarlet. "We are both headed straight to hell!"   
"At least we will enjoy the journey."   
"Do not blaspheme!" She admonished him, tapping the tip of his nose with one of her index fingers.   
"I am not blaspheming, Sweetheart. I speak true." He replied grasping her finger with the fingers of a hand, turning her hand palm up, he kissed the center, the tip of his tongue snaking out to lick her skin.   
"Is it your intension to spend the afternoon making love?" She asked boldly, watching him.   
"I had entertained thoughts of such but I will restrain myself as incredibly difficult as it may be. The risks are too great. There is a chance that you are with child as we speak. There is no way the baby could be Franco's. I would acknowledge it, of course.   
"I am not pregnant. Nor will I become with child until I choose to be." She explained.   
"How can this be? You have an elixir, don't you? Of course! Leave it to Franco to think of such a thing. He could enjoy his lovely bride once the Royal nursery was sufficiently full without having to worry of running the risk..." She could hear the relief in his voice; a bastard child would have literally been the death of them both. He sighed. "I will not take you as much as I wish to. God! How I want you! "  
She could tell he was relieved and yet frustrated, his emotions scattered all over.   
"I love you. You understand that? Regardless of the consequences and whatever the future holds." There! He had told the truth and shamed the devil.   
"I understand all too well, Edward. I fear that I am falling in love with you as sinful as it is, My noble knight-errant. But I am still bound to do as His Majesty commands."   
"We both are bound , he is the king after all." Edward said.   
They finally managed to eat their picnic and spent the rest of the afternoon reading Malory attempting to do their best to keep their hands from one another, to no avail. By the twentieth page they read he was kissing her senseless and her hands were literally all over him. Fortunately, they maintained some sense of discretion and were able to read another fifteen pages without incident, though it was difficult, before they hand to pack up their hamper and head back to Greenwich Palace.   
During their travel back to Greenwich, he managed to steal two kisses from her, unable to help himself.   
The Duke of Suffolk, Cromwell and Bryan were waiting for them at the water stairs of the palace.   
Suffolk and Bryan helped Edward secure the boat, all three courtiers watching Hertford hand Mary out, his hands lingering far too long about her waist. The look on Edward Seymour's face when he looked at his niece did not go unnoticed by the Duke of Suffolk.   
"Did you enjoy your afternoon out, Your Grace?" Cromwell asked Mary.   
"Yes." She answered. "We found the loveliest spot in a copse of trees. There was enough shade, so we did not get burnt by the sun. The small beach and the grass were perfect. We had a lovely picnic. The cook packed quite a nice meal in the hamper. We spent the afternoon reading Malory."   
"It all sounds wonderful." Suffolk said. She was speaking too quickly and brightly, a sign she was hiding something. Suffolk's eyes flicked to Edward Seymour whose blue eyes met the duke's. The look in those eyes saying everything. Suffolk felt his anger rise. "Ah! Your Grace. Here are your ladies. If My Lord Secretary and Sir Francis would be so kind to escort Your Grace inside. I will see Your Grace later this evening." Mary's ladies came forward, and with Cromwell and Bryan, escorted Mary into the palace.   
When the two men were alone, Suffolk turned to Hertford.   
"My Lord, what are you doing with my niece?"   
"Your Grace has several nieces, I do not know of which one you speak?" Edward answered playing dumb.   
"Your Lordship knows exactly which niece I am speaking of. What are you doing with The Duchess of Cambridge, My Lord Hertford? It is dangerous." Suffolk warned the younger man. "I saw the way that Your Lordship looked at her just now. How you behave when you find yourself in close proximity to Her Grace when you think that no one is looking or watching you. Have a care, My Lord, the games that your lordship seeks to play at are pure folly."   
Edward opened his mouth to speak. "It...it is nothing like that. I hold Her Grace in the highest esteem..." He sputtered.   
Suffolk did not believe a word of it. One of his eyebrows shot over one of his eyes, inquisitively. "I am most certain that you do, My Lord. But we both know that there is more than esteem involved, don't we? Some stronger feelings, eh? Though I do understand your reasoning, a beautiful widow, even one such as Her Grace, could be the prey of any courtier seeking advancement and needs a powerful lover. Your Lordship only seeks to protect what is most precious to His Majesty and to the realm. However, it could be said that your methods are treasonous. If you love Her Grace, and I suspect that you do, you would not risk blackening her good name."   
"If I recall, Your Grace played at the same sort of game and won under very similar circumstances." Edward retorted. "Your Grace ended up with a widowed queen of France as your bride. I would not behave in any manner that would besmirch Her Grace's reputation. I wish that no harm in any way will come to her."   
"I paid dearly for my presumption, Lord Hertford. Tread carefully and practice the upmost discretion. What can you possibly offer her? You cannot marry her. Her Grace is very precious to me, My Lord. Play at courtly love with her, if you must, but if you hurt her in any way or leave her broken, I will do all that is in my power to make your life a living hell, uncle to the Prince of Wales or no. You hurt His Majesty's Pearl and Your Lordship will suffer the consequences. Have a care, My Lord. You are traveling down a very dangerous path."


	13. Chapter XIII

The court celebrated All Saints' and All Souls' Day on November 1st and 2nd. Four days later on November 6th, they were introduced to more marvels and curiosities from the New World when Mary's five sea captains came to dine with the kind and select members of His Majesty's Council and court.   
The captains entered the Great Hall, dressed in their best doublets, their boots shined. Bathed and barbered, they all cut quite a dash through the court while they showed their exotic and marvelous spoils from the new lands across the Atlantic. There were live parrots and toucans, a llama, an alligator with its' powerful snapping jaws restrained with heavy canvas and ropes, a pair of jaguars, a male and a female collared and leashed that growled at the restrained alligator. Several tamarinds and marmosets, two types of New World monkeys. Some capuchins and a squirrel monkey, some of which were dressed in court clothes and had come in on some of the sailors' shoulders.   
The court 'oooohed' and 'ahhhhed' Some of the male members had seen some of the exotic creatures from the East on their diplomatic travels to France, Spain and Italy but not from this New Eden, it was extraordinary. They watched, fascinated, while the creatures were paraded about the Great Hall by some of the sailors so each courtier could get a closer look.   
Next walked in ten sailors, each carrying a large chest between a pair of them, they carried the chests to the dais where the king sat. The five chests were laid on the floor, each lid opened to the gasps of the court. The king's eyes popping when he saw the selection of jewels his daughter had hand-picked for him.   
"Your Majesty is pleased?" Mary asked, seated next to her father. She was dressed in dark navy blue velvet damask, keeping to her half-mourning shades.   
"Extremely, My Child. You honor me. I am right pleased with the fruits of the voyage and will be commissioning more endeavors such as this one. We shall tell the captains tonight. So, Don Franco whet your appetite for commerce? 'Tis a man's profession but you obviously have the head for it as is fitting a granddaughter of Isabella of Castile." Henry said to Mary with grudging admiration. "Master Secretary, does not our daughter have a head for commerce?"   
"Her Grace's trading ventures prove extremely profitable and England is better for it, Your Majesty." Cromwell answered, diplomatically; he knew which honeyed words to use to please his royal master, as he looked past the king to daughter. England's future, like so many others in Europe, lay in trade and the Americas. Cromwell knew it all too well. Continuing to be in the good graces of one of the keys to that trade was important. Despite their differences on matters of faith, Cromwell knew that he had to keep Mary as an ally if England's international ventures were to continue to be profitable, another crucial reason as to why the right man be in Her Grace's bed and be her husband. Cromwell instinctively knew that Norfolk would use the profits for his own selfish ends no matter how loyal the duke claimed his family was loyal to the crown.   
"When His Majesty entrusts his grandchildren to your care be certain the control of those ships and their profits come under your control as well, husband." Anne Stanhope said to Edward, her eyes wide and covetous while she looked at the jewels, furs and costly fabric displayed near the dais. "Look at that pious little bitch preening under the king and Master Secretary Cromwell's praise. A head for commerce? She had one favorable voyage and it is as gold has rained down from the sky due to making! Luck! That is all it was. Pure Luck!" She added, none too kindly.   
"She learnt from her late husband, Don Franco. He was known to be one of the best mariners in the Empire. I would not discount Her Grace. Why the spiteful prattle, wife? It is most unbecoming." Edward replied.   
"Where is your loyalty, My Lord? You would defend her over me?" She hissed becoming angry. "I am your wife!"   
"If you are my wife, lady, then start behaving as much." Edward shot back.   
"But Sir Francis makes me laugh..." She fired back with a response of her own. "If it concerns you so, come to my bed tonight."   
Edward sighed. "Another time, it looks as it will be a late evening with these sea captains here. I will be too weary. "Edward refused. He had not slept with Anne since he had lain with Mary at Hunsdon, nor did he intend to. He preferred the warmth of his mistress to the coldness of his shrewish wife.   
"Who is she?" Anne asked.   
Who is who, My Lady?" Edward answered her question with one of his own.   
"Your mistress. Is it a member of her household? It is one of those Eastern whores? Or did you corrupt one of those pious young ladies?" Anne asked. "Or has playing nursemaid to that little prude proved exhausting?"   
If Anne only knew, Edward thought to himself, remembering the taste of Mary's lips on his own, the feel of her slender lithe body in his arms, her cries of pleasure when he had made love to her. The memories had kept him up late some nights, the lack of sleep leaving him slightly fatigued. He took a moment to measure his words. "Her Grace can be a bit demanding..." He offered, it wasn't a complete lie. She had demanded that he seduce her...   
"His Majesty and Her Grace keep you rather occupied." Anne observed.   
"It is for the good of the realm." Edward replied. "Come! We are to dine with the king."   
KKKKK  
Later, the king, Mary, the select courtiers and the five sea captains sat at a large table in the king's apartments. The king sat in the middle of with Mary directly across from him as hostess. Geoffrey Henslowe, as the honored guest, sat to the king's right. William Morrison to his left, John Bloom was seated on Mary's left and Colin D'Arcy on her right, Jack Norrington was beside William Morrison. All other courtiers sat about the table by rank.   
"I am looking forward to tasting some of these new delicacies, Mr. Henslowe. We are very pleased with the other riches you have presented to us this evening and with that presentation earlier. Those creatures will be housed in the Royal Menagerie." Henry said to Henslowe.   
"Methinks, Your Majesty will enjoy that which we have brought for ye. Many of the items are delicious and prepared as the native peoples eat them."Geoffrey Henslowe told the king.   
"Ah!" Henry said. "We look forward to such a feast. But we are not only here this evening to eat but to speak of the probability of some future adventures. "   
"Will our lovely benefactress be allowed to join us on one, Your Majesty?" John Bloom quipped, his dark chocolate eyes dancing mischievously. "Her Grace would be a grand mariner!"   
"Me? Nooo... nooo..." Mary said, shaking her head in the negative.   
"We would consider it if Her Grace had protection. Hertford, what say you to sailing the Seven Seas?"   
"I will go wherever Your Majesty wishes. I am, as ever, at your command, Sire." Edward replied.   
"Are ye prepared to tangle with Barbary Pirates, my lord?" William Morrison asked.   
"I am an Englishman. Save God, I am not afraid of anything." Edward said boldly. "I would assure Her Grace's safety if we were to run afoul of such knaves and rogues, Mr. Morrison."   
William nodded, looking at the lovely woman sitting across the table from him, catching her eye for a moment he winked at her, his lips curling into a smile. He couldn't see in the candlelight but he was certain that she blushed, her cheeks staining a pretty pink. He just prayed that Old Harry did not see. He would not be the first rich merchant's son to cast after a noble and rich heiress. There had been Thomas Boleyn before him or so it was told to be so.   
"I believe we all would hold the safety of Her Grace as our top priority would we be fortunate enough to have Her Grace as an honored passenger on one of our ships, My Lord." William said to Edward, though his eyes never left the duchess. He continued to watch her.   
"As well you should, Mr. Morrison." Edward Seymour countered, emphasizing the word 'mister' when he spoke. He had noted the way the incredibly good-looking blond seafarer was staring at Mary. "His Majesty has entrusted me with the care and welfare of Her Grace. A responsibility I take most seriously. I thank you, Mr. Morrison, in the future that you remember that, sir."   
"Well spoken, gentlemen." Cromwell said so that the earl and the captain could hear him. "Would Your Majesty not delight in hearing of these fine gentlemen's adventures?" He asked focusing the attention off the duchess for the moment. He made a mental note to proceed with his plan forthwith. The sooner she was remarried the better his life would be. "We know that His Majesty would never allow Her Grace out of England save on a diplomatic mission. Have a care with your foolish words, Captain Bloom. Though I am certain that His Majesty and Her Grace appreciate the expressions of loyalty and devotion we all heard just now. It is fortunate that England has such steadfast men as yourselves." Cromwell knew how to turn a phrase better than Edward Seymour.   
"Mr. Henslowe, if you would be kind enough to begin your tale." The king said, genuinely interested in what he was about to be told.   
"We sailed across the Atlantic on a southwest course heading for the rich islands and the land of the Aztecs. Unfortunately, a storm set us off course and we ended up traveling past this long island and some smaller ones, they looked about the size of a woman's thimble, there, in the water, some were so tiny, to travel up a river for several miles. The land was green and lush, covered with a lot of tall trees. We anchored and set out some boats to search about. They came back with flora samples and several varieties of animals, as well. Unfortunately many of the animals did not survive the voyage back to England. While up river we had an encounter with the native peoples. We sailed down river and back out into the open sea keeping close to the coast. We encountered quite a lot of large sea beasts; whales, sharks and the like. Several times dolphins ran with the ship."   
"Did you finally manage to travel to the land of the Aztecs?" Mary asked, trying not to make eye contact with William Morrison, who was still watching her intently.   
"Aye, Your Grace! That is where we found several of the delicacies, Your Grace will be eating this evening. Here come the cooks now." John Bloom said, smiling.   
The servants came through with plates of various odd shaped objects that Mr. Henslowe informed them were called 'squashes'. The universal favorites being one with a dark green skin with an orange colored flesh that had been seasoned with butter, syrup made from the sap of the maple tree and powdered cinnamon. The flesh was eaten with a spoon. Henry declared it delicious. The other favorite had an orange colored skin and flesh which was smashed and served mixed with cream, spices and some sugar.   
John Bloom enjoyed watching the expressions crossing over His Majesty's and especially the duchess' face as they the different squashes. They delight on her face made him smile. The wondered if she looked the same way when other, more intimate, sensations crossed her senses. She was far too above his station but at least he could enjoy the fantasy.   
The plates of squashes were cleared away. In walked the servants carrying platter with all manner of fish and seafood upon them. There were large prawns, steamed clams, scallops, oysters, boiled lobsters, haddock, salmon...   
"What is that fish called? I have never seen it before. Are those cakes?" Henry asked Mr. Henslowe.   
"The fish is called cod. It comes from the far northeastern shore of the Americas where we went off course. The fish was caught and placed in of sea water and brought back home to England. It was killed, gutted and filleted a scant time before ye see it presented to ye, Your Majesty. The cakes are made from the fish, bread crumbs, herbs and spices. They are eaten with the juice of these lemon squeezed upon them." Geoffrey Henslowe explained.   
Serving himself a cod fish cake, Henry bit into it. "Delicious!"   
The varieties of the seafood were altogether pronounced wonderful and delicious. Mary particularly enjoyed the boiled lobster that had been served with lemon and drawn butter, the scallops and the cod fish cakes.   
The rest of the meal was brought in. The dinner course consisted of turkeys, roasted golden brown and stuffed with bread, chestnuts and apples and seasoned with herbs and spices, Roast beef, Pork, swans, rabbit and chicken pot pies were among the choices. The wine flowed freely and everyone managed to fill their plates and eat heartily.   
The dessert course, when it was time to be served, was rather unique. There were pies made from the squashes they had been served earlier, served with little silver bowls of whipped cream to put on the top. There pies made from pecan meats, butter, sugar and cream and drizzled with the maple syrup. Whipped cream also accompanied this pie to cut its sweetness. There were also fruit tarts and sugar wafers and a sweet dessert wine to drink.   
The wine and the conversation flowed and went on well into the night as the five captains availed and entertained the king and the courtiers with stories of their travels and exploits. There was also a brief discussion of plans for another voyage in the not too distant future.   
The festivities were finally over well past midnight, the king, the sea captains, Cromwell, Rich, Hertford and Suffolk all remained behind to discuss the plans for the voyage.   
As she was rising to leave, Henry caught his daughter's arm. "Stay. These matters concern you, my child.   
Mary watched while other courtiers left the dining room among them Sir Francis Bryan and the Countess of Hertford.   
"Yes Your Majesty." She said, sitting back down in her seat, her eyes flicking over to Edward for a moment, her heart constricting with compassion at the expression upon his face, he may not love his wife anymore but it was still embarrassing to have the horns of a cuckold placed on one's head. She gave him reassuring smile watching his face soften a bit.   
"So, Mr. Henslowe, how many more ships will we have to build?" Cromwell asked, pleased that the king hadn't allowed his feelings to override his common sense. Mary was a key to the ventures but the poor young duchess looked ready to seek her bed. He knew that she arose early to exercise and personally supervise her three young children. He made a mental note to suggest that Lord Hertford escort her to her apartments. The more time that those two spent alone together only helped to nurture that which Cromwell wished to see come to fruition.   
"If we double the fleet that would be grand, Master Secretary. I would be happy with two more ships with the understanding that Her Grace retain her control over the trading company as was provided for in Don Franco's will, if that pleases His Majesty, and that those two ships be added to Her Grace's fleet with the terms remaining the same with the addition that His Majesty and Her Grace have similar shares in the profits of the two new vessels."   
The captains and the courtiers, especially the king, Cromwell, Henslowe and Morrison with interjections by Mary, Suffolk and Hertford spoke for the next hour regarding terms and conditions about the two new vessels and other lands they wished to explore and routes they wanted to discover.   
It finally came time for everyone to seek their beds. Cromwell had his way, Henry ordered Edward to escort Mary to her apartments, which were not that far from the kings.   
They walked together down the torch lit corridor in companionable silence for a few moments.   
"We are finally alone at last." Edward said, the corners of his mouth lifting in a smile. "All alone." He added pulling her behind a tapestry near one of the large mullioned windows. Taking her into his arms, his dark head dipped, his lips pressing a searing kiss on her shoulder, kissing a trail to the tender spot where her shoulder and neck met, nuzzling her tender skin, the hairs of his moustache and the stubble of his beard scratching her ever so gently.   
Mary turned her head as his came up, their lips met, melding together in a fiery kiss. Edward feeling her lips soften and yield beneath his. Her tongue pushing into his mouth demanding he caress it with his own, their kisses melting into one another's until both did not recall where one ended and another began.   
Edward was the first to pull away, panting, his face flushed. "Oh God! I want you. I want to make love to you." He whispered against her hair, pulling her closer, kissing one of her temples.   
She buried her face into his doublet, inhaling the scents of sandalwood, cloves, Egyptian musk and something else entirely male that was Edward, unknowingly moving so they were no longer hidden behind the tapestry.   
"Your Grace, are you well?" The familiar voice of Master Secretary Cromwell made the lovers disengage themselves quickly but not quick enough. Cromwell had seen the tender embrace, his eyes flickering over to Rich, his lips twitching in a smile which was masked in the darkness of the room.   
"No. I believe it was the prawns that I ate this evening..." Mary lied.   
"I am so sorry to hear that, Your Grace. My Lord Hertford should you not being seeing that Her Grace seeks her bed forthwith? I have every faith that Your Lordship can do all that is at your disposal to make Her Grace comfortable. I will leave her to you. God grant you both a pleasant night." Cromwell said sweeping down the corridor in a mass of black robes, faithful Rich trailing behind him. A smile of pure triumph lit the Master Secretary's face. God was definitely pleased with him and England.


	14. Chapter XIV

"Ah! Your Grace, may I express my most sincere delight to see Your Grace has recovered. I trust that Lord Hertford was able to assist in relieving Your Grace's discomfort. His Lordship did all to make Your Grace comfortable, I may presume? Your Grace passed a pleasant night that evening?" Cromwell inquired after Mary's health bowing low, he smiled at her kindly.   
"Yes, Master Secretary Cromwell, Lord Hertford was most helpful. I am greatly recovered due in part to His Lordship. Due to His Lordship I passed a most pleasant evening. I am indebted to His Lordship for tending so effectively and efficiently to my distress."   
"I would imagine, Your Grace would be." Cromwell said with a knowing smile, the vision of Mary Tudor being held in Edward Seymour's tender embrace seared in his mind. "Your Grace is blessed to have such as My Lord Hertford to attend to Your Grace's welfare."   
Was that a smile playing about Cromwell's mouth? Mary asked herself reading the Lord Secretary's expression. "Yes, Mr. Cromwell," Mary said, sweetly. "His Majesty has given his permission for us to go riding this afternoon."   
"His Lordship is an amiable companion?"   
Mary felt the heat steal into her cheeks unable to hide her blush. She nodded her assent, smiling.   
"I would warrant that it helps matters that he is most pleasant to look upon." Cromwell added. He wanted to see how true Anne Morgan's testimony was by testing the duchess' answers and reactions.   
"We are well-matched intellectually, Mr. Cromwell, which is more important that the turn of a man's leg or how God formed his face." Mary was still blushing, prettily.   
"Lord George Howard?"   
"What of Lord George Howard?" Mary asked.   
"Is he as amiable a companion as My Lord Hertford?"   
"Amiable enough, sir." Mary replied, noncommittally.   
"Handsome enough?"   
"Mayhap."   
"A hesitation, Your Grace?"   
Mary bit her bottom lip, holding back a bubble of laughter.   
Cromwell laughed.   
"Lord Howard has many pleasing qualities, Mr. Cromwell. You know as well as I do, that I will have to accept His Majesty's decision in the matter of my marriage most graciously and without question. As you, I am my father's to command."   
"Mama! Mama!" Their conversation was abruptly ended by Harry who came charging across the lawn of the garden toward his mother and Cromwell followed by the king, carrying his grandson, Philip in his arms, his ulcerated leg seemingly better today. Edward Seymour held Kate who was clutching one of his shoulders possessively. Tom Seymour, the governesses and nurses walking a discreet distance behind the three men and children.   
Mary and Cromwell rose as the king approached.   
"Mama, Grandpapa king gave Philip and me ponies. He says that I can start ridin' wif a groom soon. We jus' came back from the stables to see them."   
Mary smiled as her son rushed to her.   
"The lad is a regular jackanapes!" The king told his daughter with a smile, ruffling his grandson's dark head.   
The ever observant Cromwell watched the familial scene, noting the ease with which Edward Seymour was holding Lady Catherine in his arms.   
"Unca Ned put me on me pony 'n' Unca Tom put Phil on his." Harry said, excitedly.   
"That is wonderful, Harry dearest. Did you thank Grandpapa for your gift?"   
Henry smiled at his grandson looking from him to his mother. "Shall we tell your mama what you said?" He asked the little boy.   
"Did you behave yourself?" Mary was a tad worried as to what her father would say. He was as stickler for good manners and the observance of proper protocol.   
"Yes. I said 'Tank you, Your Majesty.' just as you taught me, Mama! Philip did, too!"   
"Aye, Lord Philip was a good lad, weren't you?" Henry asked touching his grandson's cheek with a beringed forefinger.   
Edward came to stand beside Mary, holding a now dozing Kate, who had her face nestled into the crook of the earl's shoulder, grasping one of his neck chains in a small fist. Her eyes at half-mast.   
"Lady Kate looks ready for a nap, don't you poppet?" Mary asked her daughter, kissing the top of her head.   
The little girl released Edward's neck chain, opening her large blue eyes for a moment at the sound of her mother's voice and the feel of her warm lips on Kate's scalp.   
"Would you like to see your Mum, Your Ladyship?" Edward asked the little child he held in his arms, stroking the softness of her cheek tenderly with the pad of a thumb.   
What a perfect family they make, Thomas Cromwell thought watching Mary and Edward with Lady Catherine. Hertford would be a loving father if this was any indication as to how he would behave. He obviously had also fallen in love with the children as well as the lady. Cromwell was struck by what a handsome couple Mary and Hertford made, as well. Everything was going to be perfect.   
One of the nurses came forward to take the baby from the earl.   
"Give her to me, Your Lordship. Mistress Kate needs some sleep." She said to Edward, reaching out to take the baby, not before Edward and Mary said farewell to the baby.   
"Oh! She left you quite disheveled!" Mary exclaimed, straightening the jewelry about Edward's neck that hung down over his chest in what only could be described as an intimate gesture, her fingers gliding over his velvet clad chest smoothing the fabric of his doublet, plucking tiny pieces of lint, real and imaginary, off it in full view of the king, her sons, Tom Seymour, Cromwell and Anne Stanhope and Sir Francis Bryan who had just entered the garden.   
" You never told me that your husband had employed a groom. Mmmm. Lovely hands and so adept at their work. Her Grace has a keen eye." Bryan teased. 

Edward had not even noticed Anne enter the garden; he was completely captivated by Mary. He could not tear his eyes away while she ran her fingers and a palm down over his chest smoothing the fabric of his doublet once again. His pupils dilated, his intense attraction to the duchess barely leashed in the king's presence.   
"Oh, yes! It appears they have become the most wonderful friends, quite intimate." Bryan added, watching Anne's expression as she watched her husband and the duchess together. As an expert seducer, Bryan knew the look on Edward's face but even he wasn't cruel enough to say anything to Anne. At least Hertford was doing his utmost to be discreet about his feelings. "He will take what he wants..." Bryan left the statement hanging in the air, his tone still one of jesting.   
"Shut up, Francis!" Anne said her color high with her rising anger. What in heaven was going on? It was about the prospect of the guardianship of those two little boys and little girl, the control of Her Grace's fortune not the devoutly Catholic duchess, wasn't it? Anne felt a tightness in her chest, her suspicions getting the better of her. There was no proof that anything was going on, she tried to rationalize but her woman's intuition kept nagging at her. "That bitch is using those whorish and exotic ways she learnt to flirt with my husband! How dare she!"   
"Whorish and exotic? Now, now, My Lady. Edward was carrying Lady Catherine. Her Grace, rightly, thought it proper to tidy the dishevelment left by her daughter to his clothing. That they happen to delight in each other's company is another matter all together, Sweet. Apparently they do more than read when they are together." Bryan observed. "I would also tread carefully when using the word 'whorish' to describe the mother of His Majesty's grandchildren. Have a care, My Dear, lest your loose talk results in a stay in the Tower, aunt to the Prince of Wales, or no."   
"Why do you all defend her? It is sickening!" Anne complained.   
"I thought that you enjoyed the fact that Her Grace was keeping Edward amused. Though from the looks of it, he is much more than amused." Bryan keenly observed.   
Anne shot Bryan a black look swatting his arm. "I would tear her heart out if I could. Rip it from that lily white Papist chest of hers. I hate her!" Anne spat.   
Bryan did not know what to say to that. Apparently Anne had seen the discreet look her husband had given Mary. Edward Seymour was a man in love and it wasn't with his wife, a fact that she was now all too painfully aware of. 

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Later that afternoon, Mary, Edward, and several other members of the court went out riding together. They rode across the green lush fields near the palace in the cool autumn sunshine. Several hanging about in various groups. The Duke of Suffolk was within the group of riders containing his two daughters, their husbands, his nieces and the Earl of Hertford, among their party were Anne Stanhope and Sir Francis Bryan, Tom Seymour, the Earl of Surrey and Lord George Howard. There were other groups of courtiers that were riding out as well.   
The courtiers formed up in several teams to show various aspects of the horsemanship, jumping stonewalls, show off their horse's mastery of the different gaits, and how seamlessly they could go from one to another. There were short races from stonewall to stonewall or a select tree to a select tree within an agreed upon distance within the open fields.   
Mary and her three cousins laughed together as they galloped over a field from large oak to large oak, neck and neck to the end. The race being declared a draw by the Duke of Suffolk who had been declared the judge being the senior most courtier, other than Her Grace the Dowager Duchess of Cambridge, within the group.   
The cousins decided to jump some stonewalls some of the other courtiers and ladies following suit. Some were thicker and taller than others; some were so old they were unsafe to navigate so they were avoided. The ladies then decided to ride over another field with the duke and the earl close behind.   
Anne Stanhope was still very angry about what she had witnessed earlier in the day. She was not feeling kind and would make a catty remark about the Duchess of Cambridge to anyone that would listen. Gossip was part of court life but this was over the top.   
"Oh, yes! I have it on the best authority that Hunsdon is truly an Eastern harem where all nature of lewd events occurs. What would one expect when Her Grace of Cambridge employs infidels and whores? What does that say about Her Grace's skills as a fit and competent mother? She brings scandal upon those innocents by raising them in that Den of Debauchery!" She said, spitefully. Her suspicions getting the better of her once again.   
"I do not believe that scandalous talk for a moment! Neither should any of you if you value your positions at this court!" Margaret Douglas said overhearing Lady Hertford's slanderous gossip. "I would have a care about what Your Ladyship says about Her Grace, My Sweet Coz. His Lordship would not be pleased to hear you speak thus." 

Anne snorted, derisively. "'Tis your sweet coz who should have a care, Lady Margaret. My husband always takes what he wants." She added, meaningfully.   
Lady Margaret's eyes widened in shock. "How dare you!" She spat back, someone had to defend Mary because she was not there to defend herself. She was riding between this termagant's husband and their Uncle Suffolk totally oblivious to the venom Anne Stanhope was spewing.   
"I dare because it is the truth. Though that woman, with her whorish Eastern ways will probably enjoy it."   
Lady Margaret rode close to Anne's horse, grabbing the animal's bridle. She reached her free hand up striking Anne across the face with her gloved palm. "I dare that because I can, Lady Hertford. Remember your place within this court. Be certain that His Majesty will hear of your treasonous lies and insinuations. My uncle will not be pleased and will certainly act against Your Ladyship. I would see to Your Ladyship's own affairs. Yes, I hear that there has been more than one, before Your Ladyship slanders a well-beloved lady known for her piety and virtue." Margaret's eyes bore into Lady Hertford's, glittering with rage. She knew the relationship between her dear cousin and the Earl of Hertford went beyond the realm of Courtly Love but she would not have Mary publicly slandered. She had seen the expensive gifts and the rose petals that had been strewn all over the princess' apartments. Lady Hertford, for all her own affairs, could not stand the fact that her husband had found a more agreeable companion. The relationship having the blessing of the king, who constantly placed the duchess and the earl in each other's company, only adding fuel to the growing fiery passion between them.   
Anne opened her mouth to speak but she was lost for words. Margaret Douglas had had the last word in this round. Damn her! She would pay for that slap which still slightly stung Anne's cheek. She would pay dearly, Anne would be certain of that, she thought to herself, turning her horse to move away from Margaret Douglas and the other ladies who after Margaret's set down of her weren't too keen to listen to Anne speak ill of the Duchess of Cambridge. She smoothly switched the gait of the horse from a walk to a trot and over to a group that was set to jump a tall wooden fence that separated two stonewalls. Upon the other side a flock of wooly white sheep grazed contentedly.   
When it was her turn, Anne sailed over the fence landing gently on the other side. "Let's try the other fence over there, shall we?" She asked her companions.   
Meanwhile, Margaret had found Mary cantering alongside their uncle and Lord Hertford in a field, it looked as though Hertford was the one to overtake the royal relations and out race them both. Margaret despite her agitation regarding the confrontation with Anne Stanhope, could not help but smile remembering Mary telling her how much better a rider Edward Seymour was than she and that he would not be politic by letting her win their horse races. As well it should be, Margaret thought. Mary would only have to content herself with being the best rider of their quartet of cousins and even that was up for disputation because Eleanor Clifford had beaten her on more than one occasion recently because Mary had been preoccupied. Margaret's smile widened to a grin, realizing what her cousin's, or, rightly, who was making her cousin preoccupied.   
"Come quickly! Come quickly! There has been a horrible accident!" One of the ladies that had been in the group with Lady Hertford came riding toward them reining her horse in near Mary, Suffolk and Hertford. She gasped, trying to catch her breath before she spoke. "Your Graces, My Lord, Please! Please come quickly! Her Ladyship took a fall from her horse jumping a high fence. She will not get up! My Lord, I am so sorry to tell Your Lordship this, but she, she broke her neck in the fall. Lady Hertford is dead, My Lord!"


	15. Chapter XV

Anne Stanhope Seymour, Countess of Herford, Viscountess Beauchamp of Hache and aunt to Edward, Prince of Wales was dead, her neck broken in a riding accident. The coroners ruled, after viewing and examining the body, that there were no signs of foul play.   
Her body was embalmed and lay-in-state for ten days. The entrance to the Hertford's apartments at Greenwich Palace and the first room leading to the coffin were all draped in black baize. The second room was draped in black cloth. The third room, where the coffin stood, was shrouded in black velvet. The coffin itself was covered with a black velvet pall. Members of the family stood to receive condolences all dressed in black with black jewelry.   
Mary had sent Edward a piece of mourning jewelry, an intaglio ring of a skull done in black onyx set in gold. Which, it was noted, he had not removed from the finger he had placed it upon since one of Her Grace's footmen had delivered it shortly after Anne had died.   
The king had given his permission that Lady Hertford could be laid to rest in St. Edmund's Chapel in Westminster Abbey. The Earl of Hertford had also been given permission to leave the court and mourn on his estate, Wolf Hall, which he would leave for the morning his dead spouse was interred, it not being customary for a nobleman to attend his wife's funeral. He was to be gone for six weeks, returning in time for the height of the Christmas revels and the arrival of Anna of Cleves.   
Henry had decided to place the protection of his widowed daughter in to the hands of her uncle, the Duke of Suffolk until the time when the Earl of Hertford returned to court. The new arrangement appeared to be marked for success. The duke would see that his daughters and niece, Margaret would help to keep those gentlemen with ambitions far above their stations at bay, by keeping company with Mary as much as they could manage.   
The funeral of Anne, Countess of Hertford was a well attended affair, more due to the deep respect Edward Seymour commanded at court and her relation to the Prince of Wales that to the lady, herself. Because of her high-handedness and haughty manners, she had been heartily disliked. Rumors were rife that the devil had called one of his own home or that her death was Divine Retribution for among many of her transgressions, the insults and slanders she had recently leveled at the Duchess of Cambridge who was well-loved by many.   
The service itself was conducted in the style of the king's new church. One of the earl's sisters acted as Chief Mourner; there were thirty women in black for each year of the countess' life that rode behind her hearse that was caparisoned in black embroidered with her coat of arms, drawn by six horses, surrounded by yeomen carrying torches. A carved likeness lay on top. Then came the priest, members of her household, knights and gentlemen of the court. At the abbey, in the Chapel of St. Edmund, the body was blessed and a Service of Burial followed.   
After the burial there was a reception where there was food and drink, the sweets made into macabre items like skeletons, coffins, skulls and the like, all made from spun sugar to remind those present of their own mortality.   
Members of the Royal Family did not attend the funeral, out of respect for the deceased; the cousins sat quietly sewing that morning.   
"Moll, don't you ever believe the Countess of Hertford's death was your fault." Margaret Douglas whispered to her cousin, using her pet name for Mary, as they sat by a window working their stitches. "Her rash and reckless behavior brought about her untimely demise, dearest coz. It was God's Will and the whole court knows it." She finished patting her cousin's arm, reassuringly.   
"I think it good that we are well rid of her and her spiteful tongue." Eleanor said. "God, forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but the countess was ill-tempered and mean spirited."   
"You mean she was a bitch, don't you, Eleanor?" Frances her older, and more boldly spoken, sister asked. "The earl will need to remarry once the king deems his period of mourning to be over. He has no legitimate issue. Ladies of the court will be throwing themselves in his path."   
"Waste of time and well you know it, Fran. His Lordship only has interest in the affairs of the realm and that which is precious and important to His Majesty." Margaret replied looking pointedly at Mary. "This time he will take his time and be cautious in regards to choosing another wife."   
"I am certain that My Lord Hertford will conduct his search for his next countess in the manner with which he conducts all his affairs, with prudence and discretion." Mary said, stabbing her needle into the fabric of the shirt she was sewing for her son, Philip. She had finished the piece for her daughter several days ago. "He will find himself a rich heiress with an impeccable pedigree."   
You just described yourself, Margaret thought looking at her cousin as she worked her embroidery, making a French knot in the center of the heart's ease she was sewing.   
A commotion in the courtyard sent the women to the large lead casement window to look out; the earl had come out in his all black traveling clothes save his cape that had a dark gray wolf fur collar. Even the plume on his cap was black. His younger brother close behind him also clad in black from head to foot.   
"It appears that we have an audience, brother." Tom said to Edward indicating the ladies at the window, three had pulled back leaving Mary alone.   
Looking up, Edward acknowledged the duchess, who was clad in black velvet edged in ivory lace and pearls. He inclined his head respectfully, their gazes locking when he raised his head, his chest tightening. He was still hopelessly in love with her, God help him! It was Anne's own foolishness that had killed her, not his illicit passion for the king's oldest child. He bowed again before mounting the horse one of his groom's was holding for him, taking the reins from the man, he hitched his horse into a walk. He felt her eyes on his back as he, Tom and their entourage clattered out of the courtyard destined for Wiltshire.   
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Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk took advantage of the Earl of Hertford's absence from court by pressing the suit of his nephew, Lord George Howard to Mary Tudor, once again. It took some bribery and some flattery to persons in high places. Norfolk would stop at nothing, especially since he had failed before. He blamed Edward Seymour and the close friendship with the lady, which Norfolk could not understand. Why would she avail herself of that heretic's low-born friendship was beyond His Grace. She had Tudor and Trastamara blood running through her veins, a man like Edward Seymour was far beneath her, no matter that his sister had given the king his long sought after heir. A young man like hid nephew, George was a more fitting mate; his blood was as blue as Mary's.   
George Howard knew it was his duty to advance his family. If courting the Princess Mary brought him her hand in marriage and eventually the crown of England so much the better. He wanted the lady in his bed, not matter what. She was a lovely woman, her half-mourning clothes enhancing her red-gold hair and pink-tinged white skin, inciting George's lust. He had stolen a kiss from her once and he dreamt of taking more especially since they were far from the palace and his cousin, Surrey a discreet distance away.   
George had helped Mary dismount from her horse, the two of them walking side by side, leading their horses. The day was overcast, cold and breezy, especially where they were which was close to the Thames. Some of her tendrils of hair were dancing about Mary's face.   
Reaching up with a gloved hand, George brushed one of the pieces of hair off of Mary's face, his fingers tracing the line of one of her cheekbones. "Your skin is petal soft." He commented, smiling, staring into her eyes. He moved closer.   
Oh Gracious! Mary thought. He has everything to commend him and he is pleasant enough but I know that I would never love him. But love in marriage is not normally for princes, like me. I would have to content myself with my passions for another man and dishonor my lord by keeping a lover... She was startled by her palfrey's muzzle nuzzling for a treat, a carrot or an apple; the movements sent her stumbling into George's arms.   
He let his horse's reins slack, in order to catch her, their chests brushing against one another's. Mary jerked back and turned away from George at the contact, her back to him. He came up behind her.   
"What is it?" He asked, grasping her shoulders. "I mean to have you, you know." He whispered in her ear kissing the tiny hollow behind it. His horse nibbled grass behind him.   
George's breath was hot against her skin, it was not altogether unpleasant but her pulse hadn't leapt like when Edward kissed her. "What would you have me for, my lord? Are your intentions honorable or dishonorable? Would I be your mistress or your wife? Hmmmm? I have no desire to remarry at this time. My year of mourning is not yet ended. What say you to that, My Lord Howard?"   
"Your Grace holds me off. Has one of those dashing sea captains placed romantic ideas in that lovely head of yours? Handsome rogues and high adventure?" George asked her.   
"All women love a sailor. England has some of the best in Christendom. So there is much to admire, sir. One is even of the same background as a relation of your lordship, rich merchant stock." So he did not want her for herself? Edward would have told that he would wait until her mourning was over. "His name is William Morrison. But he is one of many, my lord. One of several handsome rogues to turn a lady's head and the court is full of them. Are you shocked, my lord? Do not be, just because I am mourning does not mean that I am blinded to all I see."   
"I would hope that Your Grace would see me, Madame, and the love I bear Your Grace." George said. "I would do all in my power to make Your Grace the happiest of women if you would but allow me. Let me make you happy." He whispered in her ear, his meaning all too clear.   
Mary knew what his intent was; they had played this game before. He was persistent; she had to give him that but her heart was otherwise engaged. "I appreciate your ardor, My Lord..."   
"Skillfully put off once more. I will wear Your Grace down, eventually. "   
"So certain of that Howard charm? You will grow old in your attempts. Remember I am a Tudor and we tend to be a family full strong willed stubborn people. You will pull, I will push, my lord and we will always find ourselves at a stalemate." 

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William Morrison was escorted into Master Secretary Cromwell's office by a servant. The place was a flurry of activity, scribes were busy copying letters, drawing up papers and bringing in and dispatching reports and messages.   
He was lead over to a large desk in a corner near a window where Cromwell and Rich sat, both men, seeing the sea captain approach, rose.   
"Ah, Mr. Morrison, so good of you to come." Cromwell said stepping forward to greet the handsome mariner. 

Morrison's grass green eyes went from one man to the other, "From the nature of the message I trust this meeting will not encompass anything having to do with the sea, ships, the New World and the like."   
"Nay, Mr. Morrison. If it were, Mr. Henslowe and your three other comrades would be here. This is a more pressing matter of some greater importance. It has to do with Her Grace of Cambridge."   
"Your Lordships would summon such as me in regards to a matter concerning Her Grace?"   
"Yes, Mr. Morrison, we were, ah, made well aware of the affection your have for Her Grace the evening of the New World fete. We need your assistance in helping distract Her Grace a course that may prove disastrous to all Christian Englishmen." Cromwell said.   
"Sir?" William wasn't following.   
"Thomas Howard, Duke of Norfolk seeks to place his nephew, George Howard, a Papist, into the bed of Her Grace. The perfect man for Her Grace is not available to press his suit due to the fact that he has recently gone into mourning due to the recent loss of his wife. We would be most appreciative if you would act as proxy until which time that the earl returns and is convinced of the importance of our plan. You would be a distraction, pay court to her, amuse her, make her laugh, and attend to things that would please a young lady."   
"You wish me to court Her Grace? Mr. Cromwell, I am only a rich merchant's son. His Majesty will destroy me for thinking so far above myself."   
"His Majesty will admire your courage, William. He sees the future of England and ambitious young men like you. Especially those whose loyalty can be counted upon."   
"There certainly must be someone else Your Lordships could put forth." Morrison protested.   
"Sir Francis Bryan, a renowned libertine and Sir Thomas Seymour, whom Her Grace has publicly declared will make her a miserable mate. Mr. Morrison, His Majesty will be most grateful for your loyal service to The Crown and is willing to pay handsomely for it." Cromwell said, smoothly. Everyone had their price. "It will only be for a little while and will be worth your effort."   
"If it pleases the king that I pay court to Her Grace than I will do whatever His Majesty wishes. I am loyal to His Majesty, first and foremost."   
"Not just the king, Mr. Morrison. You will be doing all loyal Christian Englishmen a great service."   
"I thank you, Mr. Cromwell. Though I do have a question, sir, if I may? I am puzzled. Don Franco was a Papist though his mother was a converso. Yet I remember that Your Lordship supported that marriage."   
Cromwell instantly caught on to where this was leading. "Norfolk will use his exalted position for his own selfish ends, Mr. Morrison. He only seeks that which can enrich and prosper his own overweening pride. He thinks only of himself and the Howards."   
"He holds himself above the welfare of the realm." Rich stated, baldly.   
William nodded. "Sirs, for my own safety and that of my crew and our enterprise, I wish not to offend My Lord Hertford in any way. Should he ever find himself in a position to..."   
"His Lordship will appreciate your loyalty and sentiment, Mr. Morrison. This conversation never happened nor did you hear any talk of the Earl of Hertford."   
"No, Mr. Cromwell. I heard nothing, nothing at all." William Morrison was an intelligent man. He knew when to hold his tongue and play his part for the good of the realm.   
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William Morrison did not have long to wait to begin his charade. That he nurtured a secret desire for the duchess made things that much easier. He was bold, charming, handsome and a skilled lover where women were concerned. He had left broken hearts in ports all over Christendom. He was welcomed into the court and soon found himself within the king's family circle. Henry anxious to hear more of the seafarer's exploits. On this night, he was recounting a tale about large whales that they had encountered off a bay near where they had caught the cod fish.   
"They come near the ships and toss themselves out of the water, slapping it with their bodies, sending spray everywhere. The mothers and the wee ones. One of them came so close to the ship we could see one of its eyes and the growths and battle scars on its back."   
"Were you able to touch one, Mr. Morrison?" Suffolk asked, they were seated in a family group, Mary seated beside him. It had been three weeks since Hertford had traveled home. Suffolk knew that Seymour and his niece were maintaining contact by writing lengthy letters to one another every day. He also knew that Mary had sent Hertford items to help ease his grief- some prized jars of orange marmalade, several rare books, a new silver inkpot edged with black enamel and black pearls for the Persian Gulf along with some black goose quills and ink.   
"Almost, Your Grace. One of my sailors did. He said that it was wet and slick with slights bumps like a large piece of glass." William Morrison replied looking at the duke, who offered him more wine from the decanter set on the table between them after he had replenished his own and the king's goblet. William nodded. "Thank you, Your Grace."   
Henry sat back in his chair, relaxed from his cares and content. He found great comfort in these evenings with his family, seated about chatting. It reminded him of the good days with Katherine, his first queen, and Thomas More.   
"We will have to see about building more ships now that we have money in the Exchequer, Mr. Morrison. Do you itch to get back to the sea?" Henry asked.   
"Sometimes, Your Majesty. I am finding my stay on land quite enjoyable due to Your Majesty's most gracious hospitality." William Morrison answered, honestly.   
"And the fair company, no doubt." Henry jested, he chuckled. William smiled, laughing with the king. "I would warrant that they are more pleasing than your shipboard companions." The king added.   
"Yes, Majesty, much more agreeable, Sire." William agreed feeling George Howard's eyes upon him. The lordling did not approve of William's easy manner with the king, nor His Majesty's family, especially Mary, who enjoyed singing duets with the dashing sea captain much to George's disgust.   
George Howard prayed that his uncle Norfolk would ask the council to seriously entertain and begin discussions of the remarriage of Mary. George was becoming anxious to be given what he thought rightly his, he wanted to possess her and if they were betrothed he could. He had already taken several women to his bed to slack his sexual frustration; one evening, even entertaining two at the same time. If Mary were his betrothed and he consummated the betrothal they were good as married in the eyes of Holy Mother Church. She would have no use for protection of Edward Seymour, Suffolk or any other man then. No use at all and she would be his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Anne Seymour does lie in St. Edmund's Chapel in Westminster Abbey. She has a lovely tomb.   
>  References to 16th c. Funerary customs are from The Writers Guide to Everyday Life in Renaissance England by Katy Lee Emerson.  
>  Funeral jewelry was popular back in the 16th c. through the 19thc. And could be quite macabre. An intaglio is a reverse cameo. The image is cut into the stone as opposed to raised which is what a cameo is.   
> The bay reference in William Morrison's tale about the whales is Skellwagen Bay which is off the coast of Massachusetts, where the cod fish was found in the previous chapter. The other references which I neglected to put in last chapter were the island they passed was Long Island, the islands the present Thimble Islands which are off the coast of Connecticut. The river they came up and explored was the Connecticut River. They also toured about Martha's Vineyard, Nantucket, Newport, Block Island and Cape Cod. Then they hugged the coast down past Manhattan and New Jersey and further south.   
> It would be completely feasible for Norfolk to take advantage of Hertford's absence from court in order to press his own cause. Notice how Cromwell and Rich go immediately into action? William Morrison is a New Man and a supporter of the New Religion-people such as him would later become Anglicans or Episcopalians in the USA. Men like Morrison colonized Virginia and Rhode Island.


End file.
